


Supernatural Rewrite: Season Two.

by huntertales



Series: Supernatural Rewrite. [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eventual Dean/Reader, F/M, Reader Insert, supernatural rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 17:44:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 346,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntertales/pseuds/huntertales





	1. In My Time of Dying.

“SAM!”

He could hear her screaming voice repeating inside his head. Over, and over, and over. It was like a broken record that he couldn’t get out of his head. And it never failed to send a chill of regret shivering down his spine when he heard it. He should have known something like this was going to happen. He should have listened to her when there was a chance. And none of this would have gone down.

The footsteps were coming closer now, boots crunching underneath the gravel as the driver made his way over towards the car. He knew something wasn’t right. Even driving a truck that big, there had to be some sort of injury that wouldn’t have allowed him to be walking around like nothing had happened. So, Sam waited, and prepared himself for what faced him.

His eyes opened when he heard the sounds of metal ripping and the car door being slammed against the ground. He wasted no time in positioning his head up and positioned the barrel of the gun at the stranger. In front of him stood the driver; an old man that had something off about him that he could see even in the nighttime. Black eyes.

“Get back or I’ll kill you. I swear to God.” Sam threatened, not in the mood to have his patience tested tonight. But this demon seemed to like playing with fire. It wanted to test the man’s limits to see how far he would go before he was going to do it. Sam wasn’t far from breaking.

“You won’t.” It remarked with confidence in his voice, like he was going to get this colt out of his hands. Sam wouldn’t give up without a fight. The demon would have to pry it out of his cold, dead hands if the other one wanted it so badly. “You’re saving that bullet for someone else.”

With his one good hand, he cocked the gun back and positioned the barrel. “You want to bet?”

The demon smirked at the man for a few moments, but it was just another second before he watched the exit. And the driver dropped towards his knees, the pain of the crash beginning to set in. Sam let out a sigh of relief, cocking the gun back into lock and leaned his head back.

“Oh, my God.” He could hear the old man beginning to take realization of his actions. His voice was cracking, almost like he was on the verge of tears. “Did I do this?”

“Dad,” Sam croaked out, he turned his head to see his father was passed out in the seat next to him, all bloody and bruised. “Dad,” Sam tried again to get the man to wake, but he never did. He looked over to his other shoulder to see if his brother was in a better position than their father, but to his dismay, Dean was leaning over in his seat, looking worse than his father. “Dean,” He called out. But still, he wouldn’t move. He was in the brink of tears now. This wasn’t happening.

“Y/N?” He nearly sobbed out. Sam turned his head again to see if you were awake like he had hoped. You weren’t moving. You weren’t even breathing. “Y/N!”

\+ + +

Everything seemed like a nightmare that wouldn’t end. He knew there was a chance that all of this could have happened. One of you gotten hurt. But not both of you at the same time. The doctors say that his brother is an a medically induced coma, not sure if he’s even going to wake up from the extent of his injuries. His father had came around just a little while ago. Just cuts and bruises for the most part. There was a nasty torn ligament that the doctors want to keep an eye on. So they placed him an a brace and hope for the best. But you. He didn’t know what the hell was going on with you. Nobody did.

Sam swore he didn’t see you breathing. You were too stiff to even think that you were alive. The doctors had a list of things that should have been wrong with you from the impact of the crash; broken bones, bruised organs that would have caused internal bleeding, a concussion that would have likely slipped you into a coma and died even before the paramedics arrived. But you still kept holding on. You were clawing at life, making sure you weren’t going to end like this.

But now it was a waiting game to see who was going to wake up first. He couldn’t look at his brother longer than he had to, not because it disgusted him, but it made him realize that the life was hanging on a thin wire. One wrong move and Poof! He was gone forever. Guilt would come creeping into his mind and it wouldn’t be long before the tears were coming back. So he settled himself inside your hospital room. You were drugged up just enough to make it look like you were sleeping. He could deal with that.

Behind all the bruises, cuts, and gazed up arm from the previous attack that happened. You almost looked like someone who got out lucky. But behind your clothes were nasty, big colored bruises that made him flinch. He accidentally caught sight of them when the nurses were changing you after they took x-rays of your body to look for any further inspections for broken bones. You were lucky to have just two fractured ribs and nothing more. Overhearing the nurses they went on. “It could have been worse.” One of them said. “It’s like a miracle.” That was the third time he heard that about you just this morning.

Sam watched from his seat as your chest went up and down. Up and down. He was almost expecting to hear the heart monitor to start going down and chaos to erupt. But it just beeped away in a perfect, calm rhythm that calmed his racing mind.

You looked so innocent, so tiny.

You didn’t look like the same person that he saw every single day for the past year. The girl that he remembered was constantly moving; her mouth to make a plan of how to get the three of you out of trouble. Her body that pushed itself to save so many lives. He would never admit it, but he was surprised to see what you could do, he never thought you would have it in you to do the things you’ve done. And a mind that was constantly racing. How could he forget that?

“Y/N? I need to see her! You don’t seem to understand, this is very important! Y/N?”

Sam ripped his gaze away from your face towards the door, his eyebrows furrowing at the familiarity of the voice. He had heard it a few times before…walking out of his seat, he headed over towards the door to peek his head out to see who was causing all the commotion was about. When his eyes landed on the person, his face dropped.

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.” He muttered underneath his breath in anger.

There stood Josh Carver; the last time he saw the man, he was on the darkside of life. But seeing him again, wide eyed with fear, towering over the nurses that tried to get him out, Sam knew the man was back to his old self. Y/N always said he was a caring guy. Letting out a sigh, he waved for the nurses to allow Josh into the room, he was going to have to get this mess settled out of the way. Sam was just going to see this as a distraction, but he didn’t know it was going to make things a hell of a lot worse.

Josh nearly stumbled into the room when he caught sight of your body. He almost looked like he was going to cry, Sam reminded himself that the man was an old friend, practically a brother to you. But he still remained on alert. He never knew when they were going to attack again.

“Oh, God.” Josh mumbled out. He examined your face, a breath fell from his lips. “They weren’t joking. They really meant it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sam questioned, his tone of voice was hard. He stalked over towards the man, not waiting a single moment pass before he was grabbing Josh by the collar of his shirt and fisting the fabric in his hands. He yanked the man so they was nearly brushing noses. “Don’t test my limits, buddy. I swear to God, if you’re one of them I’m gonna—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Josh stumbled out his words, shaking his head. “I promise. I came here as fast as I could when I heard the news about Y/N. They told me to hurry before it was too late. I need to tell someone something. They told me to find a man named John—John Winchester.”

Sam let the man go, he watched as Josh composed himself. He stared at the man for a few moments, confusion written across in his facial features again. “What?” He asked, his voice now barely coming out louder than a whisper. “Why do you need to speak to him?”

Josh sucked in a deep breath, he watched you from the corner of his eye for a few seconds before he placed his attention back on Sam. He suddenly tried to remember what they said, the words slipping from his mind. But he remembered one part. “It’s a warning. All of this is warning if he doesn’t cooperate. They’re coming for her, no matter what.” Josh mumbled out, his eyebrows furrowing. “They said John would know what they were talking about.”

Sam’s face dropped in fear of what the man was blabbing on about. What the demon had spoken of before, he felt his eyes drawing back towards your sleeping face. No, it had to be some sort of joke, this was another trick they were trying to do. But he still couldn’t feel like there was more towards this situation than he was letting himself believe. Just as he opened his mouth to ask for more questions, the attention in the room slipped back towards a sharp gasp that pierced the air. Like someone was trying to take a deep breath after holding it for a long period of time.

“Y/N?”

You turned your head away from the wall that you had been fixated on for a long period of time. When you looked at him, he could see nothing but fear in your eyes. Your breathing was ragged and deep, you clutched the hospital sheets in your clenched fists. You blinked a few times before speaking up for the first time since all of this chaos unfolded.

“Alive? I’m alive?” You whispered out, suddenly acting crazy. You looked down at your hands and began to shake ever so slightly. It wasn’t long before he saw tears prick your eyes, a sudden sob broke from your throat. “No. No. This is happening!” Sam suddenly rushed to your side, throwing daggers at Josh to get out of the room.

Hearing footsteps stumbling towards the front door, it didn’t seem to block out the sobs that escaped you. Sam wrapped his arms around your body and gently pulled you into his embrace, not sure what was going on anymore.

\+ + +

“‘While seeking revenge make sure to dig two graves. One for the enemy,’” A voice echoed inside your mind, but it sounded far away, like they were standing right beside you. You squinted your eyes, that were still squeezed shut, trying to figure out what was going on. Rolling around in what felt to be a bed, you fell towards your side and opened one eye, but both of them widened at what you saw. It couldn’t be. You had seen him in so many different photographs and home videos you watched in secrecy. And here he was. You blinked a few times, not sure if any of this was real. “'And one for yourself.’ She was quite the writer, wasn’t she?”

He was sitting in a chair that was placed just beside your bed, dressed in the flannel shirt, the same exact one you had worn to bed right before he passed away. Your mother’s journal was resting in his lap, parted halfway down with his hand resting in the middle. His wedding band caught the fluorescent light when he shifted around his hand so he could close the journal. This is a some kind of illusion you’re breaking was making you think. You were high from the pain medication. That’s it.

You knew well enough that you were in a hospital; your clothes weren’t the ones that you had worn before. You could hear chatter and footsteps passing by the open door. The arm that was hurt during the face to face moment was bandaged up, it didn’t even hurt when you accidentally put weight on it. You pulled yourself up out of bed and felt just a twitch of pain near your stomach when you moved. You were waiting for the man to disappear, but he just stared at you, smiling in a way that was supposed to make you feel warm. You felt like you were going to be sick to your stomach.

He looked much older from the last imagine you could make of him yourself. You could see the deep wrinkles around his eyes and lips, the patches of gray in his beard and hair. But the light in his eyes never changed. You suddenly could feel the scuff against your skin when he would pick you up and kiss you on the cheeks. You placed a hand on your face, trying to wipe away the feeling.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” He asked, you blink once more when you found yourself staring off into space. The man reaches out and places a hand on your wrist, just inches from your wound, his embrace makes you feel safe. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

“This isn’t real. You’re not real.” You whispered. He looks at you, hurt crossing his eyes from what you had been mumbling to yourself. You quickly pull your arm away when you realize he was still holding on to you. His touch feels warm and his palms are rough, the kind you would expect from someone who’s worked hard their entire life. “My dad is dead.”

“Y/N,” He says your name, you feel tears beginning to prick your eyes. It’s exactly how you imagined it over and over again. You watch as his hurt facial expression becomes indifferent, not being able to tell if he’s angry or sad anymore. “You’ve grown to be quite a special woman. Some might say you’re a spitting image of your mother, and you are, but I must admit. You’re beginning to look lot more like me than you think.”

“What are you talking about? Am I dreaming? Who are you?” You throw questions at him, but you don’t give him a chance to answer. “And don’t you dare tell me you’re my father. It’s you, isn’t it? Stop messing me you son of a bitch.”

“I’m exactly who you want me to be. Just think, Y/N. What’s the last thing you remember?” He simply says. As if you’re supposed to know what he’s talking about. But you make yourself try to recollect back the last thought you had before ending up here. You in the backseat with Dean, all of you were trying to escape the demon. You think for a few more moments before the screams are coming back to memory. The pain. The blood. “You know, I called you our miracle baby because we thought she couldn’t get pregnant. But out of the blue…Poof. You’re in our lives. I wanted to name you Miracle, but your mother thought Y/N suited you better. And in a way, it does.”

You open your mouth, but nothing seems to fall out like you hoped.

“Y/N, I want to show you something.” Your father says, reaching out an arm, you stare at it for a few moments. You furrow your eyebrows at him. He smiles. “Come on, honey. I need to show you something before it’s too late and our time runs out.”

Your mind is screaming at you to stay put, but you can’t help yourself, a hand reaches up and allows his fingers to wrap around your flesh. He gently pulls you up from the bed and you feel your bare feet touch the cold ground. The both of you wander around the hospital without anyone stopping you, the nurse and doctors walk by you didn’t exist, and that doesn’t come across as odd to you. You stop at a closed door that has a red sign about severely injured patients. Your heart is ramming itself against your chest now. You don’t know what you’re expecting when he opens the door, but what you see makes you feel lightheaded with fear that poisons your mind.

The person lying in the hospital bed is fast asleep, almost looking peaceful compared to the severe injuries that dance across their skin. You take a step forward, not sure if he can hear you approaching him from behind, but he didn’t seem to stir from his thoughts when you called out his name. You walk until you can see Sam, who seems to be bruised mostly around the face, you flinch when you catch sight of his clothes. They’re stained with his blood from the accident and wrinkled from the lack of movements. He’s sitting in one of the hospital chairs, leaning over the bed with one of his hands wrapped around your own. The look on his face makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’re a strange girl, Y/N.”

You look away from the scene to find that the figure of your father is gone. Now standing just across the room is a woman that looks to be a year or so older than you. You become confused at her changing appearance. But then it hits you light a hammer to the head. How she changed herself from the one person that made you feel comfortable, as weird as it could have been. This outer body experience. You think about it for a few seconds before a sigh is rolling out of your mouth. You should have known. A smile spread across her lips when you make the connection after the last experience with death. She was a reaper. And you were really dead.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here for you. Well,” She corrects herself. “I was. But just a few short hours ago, the doctors took you off the life support. You’re making a wonderful recovery. Almost like a miracle is happening, right, Y/N? It seems that you’ve been having a lot of them.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You nearly hiss at her. “Who are you here for?”

“Think about it.” She says, nodding a head towards Sam. “There’s only two left.”

You waste no time and bolt for the door, you wander around the hospital hall until you stumble towards the room that you’re looking for. Winchester catches your name, and with shaky hands, you bend down to read the name. Your heart stops. “No. No.” You mumble to yourself, fumbling like an idiot to open the door, and when it finally swings open, a scream threatens to rip from your throat again. But you slap a hand over your mouth, like anyone was going to hear you.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

Turning your head, you are in shock when you see him again, standing up and walking around like he wasn’t lying in bed with all those tubes shoved down his throat. You could feel the tears streaming down your face when you see him just standing there, like had no clue what was going on, you shake your head, backing away. “Dean, you’re—Oh, my God.” You whisper out to what feels like yourself. You want to run, find the reaper to make this to stop happening.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You watch as he tries to take a step forward to you, but you step back again, afraid what might happen if you allow him to touch you. “Y/N, somethin’s wrong.”

“I don’t have much time, Dean.” You cut him off. “I’m—" But it’s too late. You’re gone.

The next thing you hear is a gasp escaping your throat, and seconds later you begin to realize that Dean is nowhere in sight. You’re in another room with different surroundings. From the corner of your eye to see two figures, but all you concentrate on was a memory of the oldest brother’s lifeless body. But as time passes, you’re beginning to forget everything that you saw. Almost like it never happened.

\+ + +

“Alive and well, I see.” The doctor is an older man that stands at the edge of your bed with the clipboard in hand, observed your medical files with much interest. You’re sitting up in bed now with Sam practically glued to your side, still not backing down after your brutal awakening that happened almost an hour ago. You stare at the white walls while the doctor goes on, but you’re not listening, too many thoughts are clouding your mind., mostly confusion. “You’re a strange girl, Y/N.”

You quickly rip your attention away from the wall and back to the doctor when he said that, almost expecting to see her again, but it’s the same person. You force a small smile after you hear him go on about your recovery. You have a mild concussion, severe bruising around your abdomen—no heavy lifting for at least the next five to six weeks—cuts on your forearm that required stitches and other sorts of small bruising and swelling they didn’t seem too worried about. You should be dead, but like a miracle, you’re alive. Guilt creeps into your mind when you hear him say that.

When you think about it again, suddenly you’re not sure why you were screaming like that. Maybe it was because of the stress from the car accident that was having lingering impacts on your mental health. You could almost feel the crushing sensation cross your mind if you closed your eyes for too long.

The doctor was right. You had gotten out of this mess quite better than you had imagined. You watch as he tells you that you should rest for a while, but if you desperately wanted to walk around, he said just a quick swing around the hall to get yourself feeling a bit better. You nodded your head and watched as the man walks out of the room to check on another patient.

Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to stretch your legs, you pull off the covers and slowly as you could, swing your legs over the bed. But Sam cuts you off, nearly pinning you towards the bed from his large frame. You wince in pain when you have to lean backwards just to keep yourself from crashing into him.

“Sam, what the hell?” You asked. “You heard the doctor. A little walking won’t hurt.”

He stares at you for a few seconds, sadness creeping into his facial features. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You want to roll your eyes, of course you remembered what happened. The crash that came out of nowhere after fleeing from the demon. Having that strange dream about your father and then you were waking up screaming. 

You push him out of the way with your good hand, as much as he wanted to protest, he walks away and allows you to go on your way. At first it’s painful to be shifting the weight to your feet, but it feels good to stretch your stiff muscles. You have to go slow at first. While you walked the halls, you begin to wonder where John and Dean are. You look over your shoulder to see Sam was watching you from the doorway of your room. He keeps eyeing you with worry. You ignore the feeling and continue on, you want to find the other brother, you need to make sure he’s okay.

You stop a nurse to ask to see what room Dean was in, she seems a bit hesitant to tell you, but she says the room number. Man, everyone around here was beginning to get on your nerves. A minute of walking around, you managed to track down the room. Sucking in a deep breath, you open the door and let it swing open. You were expecting to see him sitting up in bed, bruised and bandaged, but still going on strong. But what you saw made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You wander into the room, your mouth dropping open slightly.

“Oh, no.” You whisper out. This wasn’t happening. You wander up closer to the man lying in the bed, and pressed towards your mouth when you catch sight of the same person you were looking for. The same sandy brown hair. Freckles on his upper cheek bones that you always teased him about that made him look like a child. But his green eyes were closed. A breathing tube was connected towards his mouth and so many machines were attached to him.

Hearing footsteps approaching behind you, quickly turned your head to see it was Sam again, you stared at him for a few moments before the tears were beginning to come back. You wanted him to tell you that his brother was okay. Dean was a strong man, he was going to pull through. But his dooming silence made you realize there wasn’t much hope to see a brighter day.

“Your father’s awake.” You and Sam were broken out of your thoughts when you heard the doctor speak up again, breaking the tensed silence. He was standing the doorway with a calm look. “You both can go see him now if you like.” You should be happy to know that John is safe just like the rest of you, but you can’t help yourself but look back at the other man, knowing he’s just  
here.

“Doc, what about his brother?” You couldn’t help yourself, but feel doomed for the answer.

“Well, he’s sustained serious injuries—blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney.” Each word that the doctor says makes you feel like someone is punching you in the gut. You glance over at Dean again, examining the long scar that runs down the middle of his forehead. With a shaky hand, you find yourself tracing his wound lightly, feeling the bumps of the stitches underneath your skin. “But it’s the head trauma I’m worried about. There’s early signs of cerebral edema.”

“Well, what can we do?” You question, looking back at the doctor. You’re hoping for good news, but still, all he gives you is worry.

“We won’t know his full condition until he wakes up.” The doctor explains. There’s an awkward pause before he speaks the words you didn’t want to hear. “If he wakes up.”

“If?” You could hear Sam repeat the doctor, his voice growing hard.

“I have to be honest. Most people with his degree of injury wouldn’t have survived this long.” He said. “He’s fighting very hard. But you both need to have realistic expectations.”

Screw that. You wanted to shout at the man, but you kept your emotions bottled up inside. You weren’t going to give up. There had been other times when you were near death. And neither of them lost hope in you finding another day. Making one more glance back at the man, you promised him that you were going to find something to get him back. You owed him that. After everything that he’s done for you, it was time you returned the favor.

\+ + +

You and Sam decided to check up on his father, you were at least happy to know that the man wasn’t in terrible condition. You lingered in the background as you watched John try to take his insurance card with the one free hand that he had, the other arm was slung in a brace, Sam explaining that he had a nasty torn ligament. You weren’t paying much attention. All you kept focusing was on the same image of the lifeless body of Dean.

“All right. Here. Give them my insurance.” John said, hanging over the plastic card to Sam.

“Elroy McGillicuddy?” Sam read off the name, taking a seat after you refused it.

“With his two loving sons and ‘adopted’ daughter.” John said. You couldn’t help yourself but smile just for a moment, when the atmosphere felt a bit more at ease, the attention went back towards the elephant in the room. “So, what else did the doctors say about Dean?”

“Nothing.” Sam said. You could see John’s face drop in disappointment.

“Look, if the doctors won’t do anything, then we’ll have to—that’s all.” You spoke up, taking a few steps towards the bed. You could see the skepticism in their faces at the plan. “I don’t know. I’ll find some…“ You trail off for a moment before saying something that you could hear Dean say if he were here with all of you. "Hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him.”

“We’ll find someone.” John said. You nodded your head, but what he said next made your blood boil with anger. “But Y/N,” There was a small pause before he spoke up again. “I don’t know if we’re gonna find anyone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why not? They found a faith healer before.”

“That was one in a million.” John said. You rolled your eyes. You really didn’t want to deal with doubt right now, you wanted someone to just tell you that he was going to be okay.

“So what?” Sam retorted at his father. “We just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?”

“No, I said we’d look.” He said, making himself more clear. “All right? I’ll check under every stone.” You didn’t believe him, but you and Sam nodded your heads, agreeing with the plan. A small pause fell between the three of you before John spoke up again. “Where’s the colt?”

You turn your head away from the wall and stared at the man for a few moments, disbelief rising in your facial features from what he just said. You shook your head. “Your son is  
, and you’re worried about the goddamn colt?” You wanted to hiss at the man, but your voice only comes out sharp, still making your point.

“We are hunting this demon, and maybe it’s hunting us, too.” John reminded you, using the exact same tone you used on him. “That gun maybe our only card.”

Sam shifted around in his seat, he was becoming angry with his father also, but he knew that the man was right. “It’s in the trunk.” Sam mumbled. “They dragged the car to a yard off I-83.”

“Alright, you got to clean out the trunk before some junk man sees what’s inside.”

“I already called Bobby.” Sam said, cutting his father off. “He’s like an hour out. He’s gonna tow the Impala back to his place.”

“All right. You go meet up with Bobby. You get the colt and bring it back to me.” John instructed towards his son. “And watch out from hospital security.”

“I think I got it covered.” Sam said, getting up from his chair. The both of you started to head out, you going back towards your room to rest while the other one ran around to make sure all the loose ends were tied. But you heard John speak up, making you and Sam stop in your tracks.

“Hey. Here.” John reached over, wincing slightly from the movement. “I made a list of things I need. Have Bobby pick them up for me.”

Sam grabbed the piece of paper and began to read over the stuff. His face scrunched up at the odd things he was finding. “Acacia? Oil of abramelin? What’s this stuff for?”

“Protection.” He said, you and Sam nodded your heads.

You watched as Sam walked out the door, mumbling a goodbye before disappearing from sight. A feeling began to creep inside your stomach, you nervously found yourself fumbling with a loose piece of string on the bottom of your shirt. “Hey, John? You know the demon?” You asked, quietly sighing. You couldn’t believe you were going to say this. “He said he had plans for Sam and children like him. And plans for me, even. You have any idea what he meant by that?”

You feel a pang of disappointment hit you when he shakes his head, brushing it off as nothing, so you bite your tongue to keep yourself from asking about what the demon meant about your mother. You just nod your head and walk out of the room slowly, but just as you head out the door, a very familiar voice rings inside your ears. Your heart skips a beat.

“Well, you sure know something.”

Quickly, you turn your head around the hall to see where you could find where it was coming from. But just as you thought, he’s nowhere in sight. You shake your head and walk down the hall, pretending as if you didn’t just hear Dean’s voice.

\+ + +

You are cooped up in bed for the rest of the day; nurses come to check up on you every hour, making sure to see how you are feeling with the progress of your bruises and concussion. You always mumble an okay and give no fuss when they do the same damn thing. Sam returned back with the colt and a bag of clothes he managed to find, never once does he talk about how the car looks or Dean, he focuses on you. He says that Josh stopped by, you aren’t surprised, word must have spread around in the news. But you aren’t up to seeing him just yet, especially how the last time you saw him, you don’t feel like explaining the supernatural to him.

The both of you remain on neutral topics for the rest of the time together. You feel bad for being so quiet, you know that his older brother is lying in some bed like a vegetable, you should be there for him. But you can’t. It’s taking almost everything in you just to make yourself feel calm about this entire situation without breaking down into tears. You can’t but feel like you’re about to lose a brother. He has been in your life ever since you took your first breath. While you and Sam were insuperable, you can’t help but feel detached to him for a moment. You just couldn’t lose someone else. You don’t think you could handle it.

After lunch, you managed to get yourself into the shower and dress in your own comfortable clothes. Sam wandered away while you got ready. You winced in pain when you bent down and picked up the hospital clothes from the bathroom floor and shove them into the bin where the nurses told you to put them. You make your way back to the bed, almost breathless from the work that you put on your body. Just as you reach to put the duffel bag towards the floor, you catch sight of something that makes you feel a smile tug at the end of your lips. Dean’s leather jacket.

You pull out the jacket and examine it for a few moments, you don’t remember the last time he worn this. Out of curiosity, you brush the leather against the tip of your nose. It smells faintly of motor oil, soap and his cologne that he would wear during the trips to the bar. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. The smell makes you feel as he’s here with you in the room. And you can’t help it. Soon, you feel the heavy fabric wrap around your body, making you feel safe.

You find yourself wandering out of the room and back towards the hall, remembering what the nurse told you, you spot the room number again. You linger around the door for a few seconds before you reach a hand up and open the door, letting it swing open. Everything is just how it was last time you saw him, but he sight still could make tears come to your eyes. But you suck in a breath and step inside the room, keeping yourself composed. You take a seat and look down at him for what felt like for an eternity before you spoke up.

"Even at the brink of death, you’re still a pain in the ass.” You try to joke, forcing a weak smile at the man’s sleeping face. He doesn’t move. You shift around in your seat, you’re trying your hardest to keep yourself composed, but you feel it coming. So you battle the thoughts with another. “You’re supposed to be the one that makes sure nothing bad happens to me or Sam. You promised me when we were little. Remember?” But the room remains silent.

“Dean, please don’t do this to me. I can’t see someone else die.” Your voice is pleading, you’re acting like he can hear you. “I need you to come back. We were so close to getting everyone back together. I don’t want you to go.”

Reaching out a hand, you find your fingers tracing over the patterns of his knuckles. A sniffle here and a few fallen tears there, you look at his sleeping face. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you, how poor Sammy would react.” You mumbled, talking to yourself. But you almost feel like he’s in the room with you. “I’m going to try my hardest to make sure you get out of this alive. Just…get better, you idiot. Because when you wake up you, Sam and I are having a long conversation about you training me. I’m tired of feeling so goddamn vulnerable.”

\+ + +

Most of the afternoon slipped away, you didn’t seem to realize that you spent it by his bedside, knocking on the hospital room door brought you back into reality. You broke your concentration away from the bed to look up and see someone you weren’t expecting to have stuck around for this long. A sigh escaped your lips when you watched as Josh spread a small smile spread across his lips, showing off those dimples that caught you off guard each time. You shrugged off the jacket, leaving it to rest on the chair. You knew he was here for you, and it was time you stop pretending like he didn’t exists. You nodded for him to step outside in the hall. Slowly as you could, you got up from the chair, swallowing the pain that could be felt while you stood up before you followed behind.

Here goes nothing.

Never in your time of traveling with the brothers did you have to do the infamous speech without their help. You had pushed this off for months and it was finally here. The anxiety of having to break the news made you shake in fear of how he was going to handle it. Yet, this was Josh. He used to be your best friend, the man that made you feel like you could talk to him about anything. Yet you were still afraid.

Of what? You thought to yourself. He’s the same normal, dorky boy that would help you study for finals and made you laugh over the dumbest things. But it still felt weird to be left alone with him and the thought of the demon lurking around. Sam was out again, picking up the supplies for his father after Bobby called him of finally grabbing the stuff. Maybe you should wait until he gets back to do this.

Stop being a baby and just do it, already. This is Josh. The boy who wouldn't even hurt a freaking fly. You thought to yourself. Paranoia is getting the best of me.

“Hey,” You managed to speak up, shoving your hands inside your back pockets to keep his eyes from wandering over your wounds. “I’m sorry we have to meet again under these circumstances. I should have answered your calls when I had the chance.”

“It’s okay,” He said, breaking out another smile. He even reached up and placed a hand on your shoulder to give it a small squeeze. This time it made you feel a bit more secure. “You’ve been under more stress than I have, Y/N. All of this can wait. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

You tried to force yourself to smile at him, but you barely managed a weak one before you felt all the emotions of everything happening and the guilt from what Josh was forced to go through was filling your mind again. You felt his arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, letting the sobs that escaped your throat become muffled. It was almost embarrassing to be acting like this, being an emotional wreck in front of him you knew that you should be there for everyone. But you still couldn’t. It almost felt nice to lay in his arms knowing that he was here for

. There was no other family to think about. You could sit in your own self pity for a moment and not feel guilty about hogging the attention when there were more important people to think about.

After a few moments of letting your emotions out again, you kept your face buried in his t shirt that smelled of fabric softener and after shave. You took a deep breath in to let the aroma calm your nerves. You felt safe in his arms for the moment, leaving him to keep his large arms wrapped around your frame for a few moments longer. The silence was the answer that he really was here for you. It was selfish of you, but you needed to know that right now.

When you opened your eyes, a small gasp of surprise fell from your lips. He was there again; a frown stretched across his lips and arms crossed over his chest. It almost makes you remember of the time he caught you talking to Josh all those months ago just chatting away after your home got broken into. You knew he still didn’t feel comfortable around the other man, but you knew this was too real to be happening. You blinked after a moment of staring at him, and like magic, he was gone again from sight. Josh quickly asked if you were all right.

“Sorry. Thought I saw a ghost.” You tried to joke in order to lighten the mood. But all that came out of his mouth was a forced chuckle. You looked over to see if Dean had popped up again, but he was nowhere in sight. You broke apart from the other man and let out a sigh, you ran your fingers through your hair. “So, let’s talk about where we left of. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions for me.”

“We don’t have to do this. I mean, with everything that has been going on, I’m sure you have more important things to worry about.” Yes. But you needed something different to think about before you found yourself bawling your eyes out again. “I’m sure we can push this off for a safer time–”

“There is never going to be a safer time, okay? I need you to know that.” You cut him off. “I need to you to realize that if you stay here, you’re only dragging yourself back into this mess. You know what I’m talking about. And I don’t mean they’re gonna be using you for a little pawn, I mean they could hurt you. Or worse. But if you leave now, you can still have a chance.”

“I’m already deep in this, Y/N.” Josh said. As he opened his mouth to tell you what happened, you found yourself turning your head and losing focus on the other man. You watched as the youngest Winchester nearly stormed down the hall, ignoring you and Josh. “Y/N?”

You looked back at Josh, you forced a smile and pointed a finger up at him to wait a moment. A bad feeling began to erupt in your stomach when you followed behind Sam, you knew something was wrong. You trailed behind him until you entered John’s room again, you knew this was about what Bobby got for the other man. You lingered in the doorway while Sam positioned himself at the window, the duffel bag still hung over his shoulder. World War Three was about to begin. You had a feeling this was going to be bad one.

“You’re quiet,” John spoke up, breaking the silence after a few seconds.

Sam took a few deep breaths, like he was debating with himself with what he was about to say, but he was going to do it anyway. You watched as he headed over towards the hospital bed and nearly slammed the duffel bag down. Emotions of anger were rolling off his body language from the glaze over in his eyes and the fuming temper that was about to blow. You crossed your arms over your chest, wondering what had gotten him so upset.

“You think I wouldn’t find out?” Sam questioned at his father.

“What?” John asked.

“That stuff from Bobby. You don’t use it to ward off a demon—you use it to summon.” Your eyes nearly bulged out of their head when you heard the new information. Sam went on, disappointment and anger dripped from his words. “You’re planning on bringing the demon here, aren’t you? Having some stupid macho showdown.”

“I have a plan, Sam.” John tried to justify his actions, but his son wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

“That’s exactly my point! Dean is dying, and you have a plan!” Sam snapped, yelling at the top of his lungs. “You care more about killing this demon than you do your own son!” You rubbed your hands over your face, here comes another fight you really weren’t in the mood for.

“Don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” John argued, his tone rising to match his son’s. “I am doing this for Dean.”

“How? How is revenge gonna help him?” Sam asked. You looked down at the other man, Sam did have a point. But you kept your lips sealed. “You’re not thinking about anybody but yourself. It’s the same selfish obsession!”

“That’s funny. I thought this was your obsession, too.” John remarked. You rolled your eyes, knowing that was a dumb move to pull. “This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this fight! Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened.”

“It was possessing you.” Sam argued. “I would have killed you, too.”

“Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now.” 

“Go to hell.” Sam hissed, drawing all of his hatred into those three words. It must have felt like John went up and slapped his son right across the face with what he just said.

“Okay! We need to stop—” You tried to step in, grabbing Sam by the arm to drag him backwards, but even with you trying to stop the fight, they continued as if you weren’t here, talking over your pleas for them to stop.

“I should have never taken you along in the first place.” John continued. “I knew it was a mistake.” You rolled your eyes, hoping that all of this would just stop. And it did.

All the heads quickly turned when you heard the sound of glass breaking, catching the sight just in time to see the cup of water, that was sitting peacefully one moment, was now flying across the room and breaking into little shards of glass. You stayed silent after what just happened. You and Sam stared at one another for a few seconds, not sure what was going on, but the sneaky suspicion that Dean was really lingering here began to grow. But the thought was cut short when more chaos erupted from outside in the hall.

“Something’s going on out here.” John said. You looked away from the door while a handful of nurses went running down. He nodded his head for you and Sam to follow behind.

You bolted down the hall with the youngest brother trailing behind at your heels. You could feel your breathing beginning to become heavier in fear when you watched as the bodies began to shuffle inside the room that you were heading towards.This couldn’t be happening. You nearly toppled forwards when you watched as the sight unfold. You thought of you had more time. But it seems that Death waits for no one.

You watched as the doctors and nurses tried to get Dean’s heart going again. The failure buzzing noise was almost a mocking noise, testing your thin nerves to see how long you could go before you found yourself snapping at them to try harder.Sam was looming behind you in the doorway, mumbling something while the entire scene unfolded. You tapped your foot against the floor, trying your hardest to keep your growing nervousness to a minimum. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on, Dean. But after the fourth time, they went to CPR. You were so caught up in the scene, you almost didn’t hear him again.

“I said get back!”

His voice echoed in your ears, breaking your concentration from the sight. You looked away from the lifeless body for just a moment to see if he was around, by some chance. You had been feeling his presence for some time. But you still couldn’t see him.

“We have a pulse.” You quickly turned your head away from the other side of the room when you heard the steady rhythm beating. You watched as the line on the screen began to go up and down in perfect sync with each second that passed. The nurse confirmed your hopes. “We’re back into sinus rhythm.”

A sigh of relief escaped from your throat, your body beginning to relax from hearing the news that made you feel a bit more at ease. You leaned yourself against Sam, smiling at the other unconscious brother. “You stupid son of a bitch.” You muttered to yourself.

\+ + +

After making sure that Dean was stable enough to leave for a few minutes to tell their father, you and Sam explained what happened and the odd events that followed behind. For Sam, he might have a reason being a little psychic, but you didn’t feel like you were becoming the next Ghost Whisper, even with the amount of dead people you have been seeing today. Maybe Dean really was somehow lurking around the place and everyone could hear him.

“What do you mean you felt something?” John asked.

“I mean, I felt like,” Sam tried to explain the sensation to his father. “Like Dean. Like he was there, just out of eyeshot or something. I don’t know if it’s my psychic thing or what.”

“But do you think it’s even possible?” You couldn’t help yourself but question the both of them to answer your suspicions. “Do you think his spirit could be around?”

“Anything’s possible.” John said.

You pursed out your lips, finding yourself in thought for a moment. That’s when it hit you like a ton of bricks, surprised that you didn’t think of it sooner. “Well, there’s one way to find out.” You said, finding yourself heading towards the door.

“Where are you going? You can’t just leave the hospital when you feel like it.” You heard John call out, you rolled your eyes. “Especially for someone in your condition.”

“I have to pick something up.” You said, looking over your shoulder at him. “I’ll be back. Give me than hour, okay? Sam, come on.”

Just as you stepped out of the room, John stopped you and Sam for a second. You looked over at him again, wondering what he wanted to say. “Wait, guys.” John said. “I promise I won’t hunt this demon, not until we know Dean’s okay.” You placed a hand on the youngest Winchester’s arm, you smiled at him, knowing that at least one part of this mess was settled made you feel a bit more at ease. The next challenge was finding yourself access to a ouija board, despite the bad blood you had after seeing one a long time ago.

\+ + +

Eight Years Ago: 

You sat in the middle of the circle, clutching your pillow tighter when you saw the lights were flickered off, making the room almost pitch black without the candles that were just a few feet from you and the full moon that lingered from the bedroom window. You looked over at your friend and gave her a glare, she smiled and gave you a thumb’s up. You knew this was a bad idea from the moment you said yes to this stupid sleepover. If your mother came home early from her date and found you doing this, you knew no summoned demon or spirit was going to be able to match the fury your mother would lash out on all of you.

“Guys, we shouldn’t do this.” You said, trying to the voice of reason. But the scoffs and chorus of laughter made you sink deeper into your spot. This isn’t how you wanted to spend your Saturday night. You should be working on your English paper like you planned on doing yesterday morning. But noooo. Your stupid friend came whining to you about having to throw some stupid slumber party to impress some group of girls that you didn’t talk to a day in your life since you moved into this state. Since she couldn’t do it at her house because of renovations, she conned you into doing it at yours.

“Are you scared, Y/N?” Some blonde girl named Ashlee asked, mocking you in a baby tone, like the stupid sixteen year old she was. You rolled your eyes, nodding your head. She laughed, the other girls followed behind, even your friend. “Jesus. It’s just a game. Don’t believe it’s real.”

You watched as the box was lifted up to reveal a wooden board with different letters painted across. Your heart began to beat faster in fear. You really hoped your mother ordered dessert and took her sweet freakin time with that doctor she was paired up with by one of her coworkers. Ashlee placed the board across from where you were sitting, the game had officially begun.

All of you watched as the questions began to fly around; some of them were yes or no that could be answered with a simple drag of the planchette. But just as you thought of this was going to be easy, things seemed to have turned for the worse when you heard strange words come falling out of Melissa, Ashlee’s brainy best friend, as she closed her eyes. You swallowed, feeling a strange sensation coming to you when you realized a few words of Latin from studying for your SATs that you would be taking next year. Your mother’s idea, of course.

“Give me your hand.” Ashlee suddenly broke your concentration from the board. She waved for you to following her command, but you just blinked at her. “Give your your hand.” She repeated herself, irritation lining in her words.

“What? No!” You shrieked, shoving your hands inside your lap. “What do you need it for.”

“For sacrifice, duh.” She said, acting as if you were dumb. You widen your eyes at her from what she was saying. “I read if you put fresh, virgin blood on a ouija board, while changing some stupid line, you can totally sumon some demon or something.” Everyone looked at her with disbelief. “What? My sister told me some girl at her college did it. Said one of her friends got possessed by it—her eyes went black and everything, started talking about selling your soul for anything you wanted. How cool would that be?”

“What the hell? You’re not using me!” You yelled, looking at Ashlee with a glare. “Why can’t you let Melissa be the victim? We all know she’s saving herself for marriage. I mean, it’s the only thing she ever talks about half the time.”

Melissa throws you a dirty glare, “We mean virgin, virgin.” She corrected you. “The purer, the better the chances this will work I mean, like, you’re little miss innocent.”

“Your friend told us you haven’t even been kissed, let alone out on a date.” Ashley said, a smirk spreading across her lips. You threw daggers at the other girl, angry that she spilled your deepest secret so easily. Bitch. “Unless your little boy friend has been teaching you more than big words. Josh, right?” You remained quiet. Her smile grew. “Give me your hand, Y/N.”

Before you even had a chance to protest, you felt one of the other girls reach out and snatch you by the arm and yank it forward. You tried to pull away, but she was somehow stronger than you, positioning your palm was it was upwards for Ashlee to see. You knew this was really happening when you watched as she pulled out a pocket knife from her bathrobe pocket, flipping the blade open and letting the silver reflect the moonlight for a moment before bringing it down towards your skin.

A gasp of pain escaped your throat when you watched as the blade ran across the palm of your skin, while you watched as the layers broke, blood began to pump through the wound. Ashley let you bleed for a few seconds before turning your hand down and let the substance stain the wood. You nervously swallowed, not sure what was going on anymore. You wanted to run, but the two girls that were besides you had pinned you down, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. Melissa continued with the chanting, you watched as nothing happened for a few moments, but when it did you knew something was about to happen.

Everyone’s heads turned towards the window when the sounds of a tree branch hitting the window began to grow faster and rougher. The wind picked up, at a strangely fast pace, hard enough to let the newly grown leaves from the arrival of spring to come falling back off and heading towards the ground. As if that was strange enough, you watched as the neighbor’s porch light began to flicker rapidly, and soon, all of the neighborhood that you could see from your house joined in the strange behavior.

“Oh my god!” A random girl screamed out when the room suddenly became dark after a gust of wind blew out the candles. You felt someone breathing down your neck, you were about to yell at your friend to stop fooling around, but all that came out of everyone’s mouth next was a squeal of panic from what happened next.

“What the hell is going on in here?!” The shrill of your mother’s voice rang in your ears. You closed your eyes in annoyance, realizing that she had opened up the door to disturb this little moment of all your friends messing around while you were beginning to bleed out on the carpet she just had paid to get cleaned. “Why are you—Why is there a ouija board? Y/N, which one of your friends snuck this into the house? You know I don’t allow that kind of shenanigans!”

“But, Mom—"

“Don’t you dare pull that tone of voice with me, young lady. March yourself into the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up. And as for the rest of you ladies, I expect to see all of you phoning in your parents to come and pick you up.” Your mother ordered crossing her arms over your chest.

Blush begin to creep up along your neck when you watched all of you with a stern eye, making sure that each girl busied herself with packing up her belongings. You cradled your bleeding palm and scurried off towards the bathroom, ignoring the glares that each one of your guests were giving you. Just a few more years until college, then you wouldn’t have to see any of their faces again to keep the reminder that your entire social life would be gone by the time Monday rolled around after everyone heard about this.

While you heard the sounds of everyone slowly leaving, you kept yourself busy by making sure the wound would stop bleeding before reaching and grabbing a band aid. You looked up when you saw the bathroom door creak open and your mother’s face peeking through. She nodded her head for you to take a seat on the toilet so she could clean your wound. You sat down, feeling the plush cover tickle the back of your knees while your shorts raised up slightly.

Your mother grabbed the bottle of peroxide from the medicine cabinet and on old wash cloth before dabbing a bit on before grabbing your palm. You winched at the burning sensation, but she didn’t seem fazed, rubbing away the dry blood before examining the wound.

“Well, you don’t need stitches.” Your mother said, smiling at you, as if she wasn’t pissed out just a few minutes ago. “She didn’t cut you deep enough. You should be okay.”

“How do you know?” You asked, stopping her in her motion to grab the large band aid that you were going to reach from earlier. You weren’t the one to question your mother. But she had been acting strange strange these past few days. She kept quiet for a few moments. “Mom, why do all of that kind of stuff freak you out? LIke the ouija boards and stuff? It’s just pretend, right?”

“Right.” She muttered, ripping open the package. “I just worry about you, sweetheart. I don’t want you to hang out with those kind of girls. They will only bring you down and ruin your chances at getting into Stanford. Remember, it’s your dream college.” No, it’s yours. You wanted to say. But you kept yourself quiet.

“I didn’t speak to them in a day of my life until tonight. This wasn’t even my idea.” You said. “And trust me, I won’t be doing it after what they tried to do.”

“Good.” She said, placing on the band aid and dropping your hand into your lap. “Because those kind of people aren’t good—Those who believe in all that mumbo jumbo. You’re a smart girl, I know you will keep yourself away from the supernatural stuff. I promise you that it will only leave you in trouble you will never find yourself out of.” You gave her a confused look,but she changed the subject before you had a chance to ask. “Go and clean up the stuff and throw it out. I don’t want it in my house longer than I have to.”

You did what she told and put the piece of wood into the curbside trash, leaving it for the morning pickup. You decided that after all of the adventure that happened, you were going to go to bed with a bit more ease left out from your mind. You slept for a few hours before you awoke in the middle of the night to hear rustling coming from your backyard. You couldn’t help yourself but peek out to see what was going on. But it was a sight you weren’t expecting to stumble upon on.

Your mother was standing over the fire pit you used during the cold fall nights, but you weren’t expecting to see her using it during a oddly warm spring night. You watched as she threw something woodlike into the pit and placed a few loose, crumpled up newspapers into it. She sprinkled something over the mess, you squinted your eyes to see it, you caught the sight of the canister of salt she kept stocked in the pantry. Things just kept getting stranger. You watched as she pulled out a box of matches and lit one, waiting a few moments before throwing it into the pit, letting a flame of fire grow until there was nothing left but ash.

The next morning you checked to see what she burned, but there was nothing there, as if nothing had happened. You tried questioning your mother to know what she was doing, of course, she denied everything. You knew something wrong was happening, and you weren’t wrong.

One week later, your mother was found dead.

\+ + +

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sam asked for the third time, you looked over your shoulder and gave him a look that was a mix of disbelief and annoyance. Says the boy who’s been having strange visions of people’s death and feeling his brother’s spirit around. So what you were proposing wasn’t something was standard when it came to this kind of lifestyle, it was almost a joke to have even thought of it. But you were desperate. “I mean, come on, a ouija board?”

“Well, I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas.” You snapped your head forward and continued walking down the hall with following behind with the bag. You and him walked for a minute in silence before you let out a sigh. “It’s an ammautre move, I know. I just don’t know what else we could do. And if Dean really is lingering around the place, this has to work. Right?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, clueless as you were. You opened up the door towards the hospital room and stepped inside to see the same sight that hasn’t changed since the last time you saw him just an hour ago. It still made your heart race in sadness, knowing that he was just lying there, helpless and almost like a prisoner in his own mind. You crossed your arms over your chest and stood next to the bed for a few moments while you heard Sam’s footsteps coming up next towards you. You heard him sigh at the sight.

“Hey.” Sam started talking to his brother. “We think maybe you’re around. And if you are, don’t make fun of me for this, it’s all Y/N’s ideas.” You rolled your eyes, looking up at him with annoyance. “But, um. There’s one way we can talk.”

You heard the crinkling of the paper bag before he pulled out the box, you and him headed over towards the floor. You sat cross legged on the cold, hard surface with the ouija board in front of you and Sam beside you. If Dean was here, you knew it was just a matter of seconds before he was going to make some sarcastic remark about this entire plan, probably complaining to himself that he was feeling like he was at same sleepover.

“Dean?” You called out, almost expecting to move around in the room. But everything stayed still, you couldn’t feel him like before. “Dean, are you here?” It felt like forever at staring at the planchette that Sam was holding on top, waiting for someone to start moving it. You were expecting for this to fail, but a gasp of surprise fell from your lips.

It was beginning to be dragged forward, Sam was just as much an awe as you were when you saw what the planchette landed on. Yes.

“I’ll be damned.” You said, laughing in delight.

“Oh, it’s good to hear from you, man.” Sam mumbled, happier than ever to know that his brother was around. “It hasn’t been the same without, Dean.”

But with the moment of happiness out of way, it was time to get down to work, at least for Dean, he was ready to tell you what was going on. You furrowed your eyebrows when you watched as the object began to move again, spelling out a word that you weren’t expecting. “Dean, what?” You whispered out, not sure what was happening on his end of things. He dragged the planchette down to the first word of the letter. “H…” You said out loud. “U…N..T…” You looked over at Sam, confusion written across the both of your faces.

“‘Hunt?’” Sam repeated the word out loud. He seemed just as lost as you were about what his brother was trying to tell the both of you. So he continued asking questions to see what Dean was hinting at. “What, ‘hunting’? Are you hunting?” The both of you watched as it dragged up towards the yes part of the board board again.

“Dean, it’s in the hospital, what you’re hunting? Do you know what it is?” You asked, throwing questions at him faster than he could answer. You found yourself growing impatient from the small pause. “What is it?” A few moments later he finally began to spell out what he was running from. Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach when you realized what it was.

R.

E.

A.

P. 

E.

R.

“The reaper.” Sam read out this time.

“Dean,” You spoke up, your voice cracking slightly. “Is it after you?” You watched as the planchette was dragged up towards the yes again. You felt a loud sigh escape from your lips when you figured out how screwed all of you were. Nobody can escape Death, not even a Winchester. “If it’s here naturally,” You said, being the bearer of bad news. “There’s no way to stop it.”

“Man, you’re, uh,” Sam tried to speak up, but the three of you knew there was no way around this. But it seemed that he wasn’t going to give up so easily, there had to be a loophole somewhere. He rubbed a hand over his face and then dropped it towards his lap. Suddenly he started to mumble no underneath his breath while he stood back up. “There’s got to be a way. Dad will know what to do.”

“Sam? Sam, where are you going?” You called out, slowly getting yourself up from the ground and following behind the other man to see where he went off towards. You wandered around the hospital until you found him exactly where you thought he would be, back to his father’s own hospital room. But when you looked inside, something seemed off. Maybe it was because John was nowhere to be seen.

\+ + +

You scurried around like a chicken with your head cut off to find out how to cheat Death. While Sam grabbed his father’s journal, you racked your brain to see what you could remember about reapers. All though you had an unfortunate run with one of them, the situation that you were dealing with now was far different than the last time you remembered. Unfortunately you were at the brink of death like he is at that moment, you were becoming healed. You felt a heavy amount of guilt weigh on your chest, time was running out, and you sure didn’t have time to wait and feel sorry for yourself about what was going on. Dean was going to get through this, you told yourself as you forced a smile. But you still couldn’t believe the lie.

Out of habit you grabbed your mother’s journal, just in case she had something written down that could help you. But you doubt in the long, personal entries there was talk about bringing someone back from the dead. You headed down the hall and walked back into the hospital room where you saw Sam again, he was sitting at the edge of his brother’s bed with his father’s journal. The look on his face, at least someone wasn’t giving up hope.

“Hey, so Dad wasn’t in his room.” Sam talked to his brother as if he didn’t know you were in the room just yet. You headed deeper inside. “But I got Dad’s journal, so who knows? Maybe there’s something in here.”

You looked over his shoulder when Sam finally managed to find a spot in the journal where there was a decent amount of information about these creatures. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tried to get yourself to concentrate on the information to see if there was anything useful. But after a few seconds, you found your attention lingering back towards the youngest Winchester. You watched as his eyes scanned the paper, drinking up all the information that he could find to help his brother get better. You felt your lips switch into a small smile.

After a few moments of silence, you watched as he turned his head, confusion written across his face when he realized that you were still staring at him. “What?” He asked.

You shrugged your shoulders, looking down towards the floor for a few moments before looking back at him. “He would be proud, you know.” You said, nodding your head towards the other brother. “Out of everyone here, you’re the one who’s been holding it together for all of us. Thanks for keeping up the hope, Sammy. I don’t know what we would do without your stubbornness.” All he could manage was a weak smile before looking back down at the journal.

\+ + +

After looking through the journal a handful of times and seeing that the sun had set, you decided to see if you could find information anywhere that you could, but it was just an excuse to get yourself out of the room. You needed a breather away from the sight. No matter how much you tried to tell yourself that he was going to get better or how you tried to claw your way out of the mess, you still couldn’t find the light at the end of this long tunnel.

You felt like you were drowning in guilt. The game of What If? kept playing around in your mind for the past few hours; different questions, always the same answer. You should be in that bed, not Dean. It would be so much easier if they pulled the plug, pretend that you were just another person they couldn’t save. Just forget you like you did for all those years. This wasn’t fair, he didn’t deserve this, none of them did. Funny how the people that try to make this world a better place end up getting the short end of the stick. Or maybe you bit off more than you could chew, and the man had to pay for your mistakes that you made along the way.

Wiping your tears away with the back of your hand, you sucked the deepest breath you could muster up and tried to get yourself to become calm again. You started to head back with the journal lingering around in your grip, the sound of your footsteps echoed off the walls, almost the only noise you could hear while going back to the room. But as you were just inches from heading inside, Sam’s voice stopped you in your tracks. You pressed the journal towards your mouth to keep your breathing quiet so you could eavesdropped on what he was saying.

“Couldn’t find anything in the book.” He began saying, but there was a small pause before he started again. “I don’t know how to help you. But I’ll keep trying, all right? As long as you keep fighting.”

You peeked your head in just enough to see him standing over his brother’s bed, his eyes were becoming shiny as he examined all the machines that were keeping the older man alive. “I mean, come on, you can’t,” He forced out a chuckle to stop the sadness from coming. “You can’t leave me here alone with Dad. I know that Y/N gets tired of us too quickly. We’ll end up killing each other. You know that.”

You pressed your top teeth down on your lip as hard as you could from what he said next. “Dean, you gotta hold on.” He said, shaking his head. “You can’t go, man, not now. We were just starting to become brothers, again.” The room fell silent again, as if he was expecting to hear his brother’s presence that had been around all day But you had a feeling that he wasn’t. “Can you hear me?” Neither you or him could hear what Dean had to say.

Just as you were about to leave to give the brothers a bit more of privacy, you suddenly heard something you weren’t expecting. Gagging? Gagging!

You quickly turned on your heels and stumbled into the room to find what you had hoped; Dean was now lying up in bed, coughing while the tubes that were keeping him alive, were nothing more now than just a hazard that was making his natural breathing hell of a lot harder. You heard Sam screaming for help other the sound of your heartbeat that was pounding inside your ears, still not sure what was happening, but you were just glad the little bastard help on for this long. Maybe there was someone out there that was looking out for all of you, after all.

\+ + +

It wasn’t that long ago you thought that it was going to be a possibility of leaving the hospital without the extra person that was lying in a hospital bed, vegetable state with tubes shoved down his throat, the future only looking grim. But during the middle of the night while you and Sam were scrambling around to find a way to get his older brother better, by some random chance, the man wakes up. And it seems that from the few tests they ran, he was in better condition than he was even before the accident happened. Some would be a skeptic, others would believe this is a sign of a miracle. You weren’t going to question anything.

But during the sea of nurses and doctors that attended towards Dean’s side during the observation state, you could hear them whispering around the strange things that were happening around here. It seemed that you and the Winchester men have left quite an impression on the hospital staff. First, you were the topic of discussion, making a speedy recovery. You ignored the thought after you overheard a pair of nurses claim that you were pronounced dead at the scene.

“One of the paramedics I talked to swore she wasn’t breathing. There wasn’t even the slightest faint sound of a heartbeat.” The taller one claimed while she passed the room, almost oblivious towards your presence. “It’s like our little miracle, right?”

You denied everything. You thought if you began to question the slightest thing about what was happening, you had a feeling that something would go wrong and all the relief that you had been needing would just vanish.

All of you had been through hell these past few days, you just wanted to have a breather and pretend that everything was okay for the moment. The demon wasn’t going anywhere, you still had the colt, everyone was going to make a smooth recovery. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe things could get even better because of this scare. Nothing like a near death experience to bring the entire family together.

While the doctor that had been looking after all four of you took one more examination at Dean after he was monitored the rest of the night with no signs or warnings that would leave all of you to worry about, you excused yourself to look for the other family member.

It was beginning to bother you that John was still nowhere to be seen, you had checked up on his room a few times during the night to see if he had come back, but it seemed that he had vanished from sight. You were beginning to wonder the worst when you swung around his room again, you even stepped inside again to see if he was roaming around somewhere. But when you saw that it was empty again, you were about to let out a sigh of annoyance, all though it came out as a sharp gasp when a body nearly toppled into yours.

You quickly backed away and pressed a hand towards your racing heart after you saw the arm strap, making it just seconds to realize it was John himself. “Jesus. You scared me.” You admitted, letting out a breathy laugh when you calmed yourself down. “Did you hear the news about Dean? He’s awake.” You felt a smile tug at the end of your lips when you said it out loud for the first time. “Oh my God, this is great.”

“It sure is.” He said. You watched as a small smile spread across his lips, but something was off about it. John didn’t seem to look happy, more of the opposite, he seemed sort of sad from the more time you looked at his facial features. You softened your expression, wondering if there was something going on you weren’t aware of.

“Are you okay?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask.”You seem kind of, I don’t know, off.”

“Yeah. Just tired.” He said, shrugging off your concern. “These past few days haven’t been very easy on all of us. I think it’s finally settling on me.”

You nod your head. Out of everyone, he must have been battling with all sorts of stress, not sure what was the right thing to do. Constantly fearing that his oldest child could possibly die before him, something that no parent wants to think about. But you had hoped he was having some sort of peace for the moment. All though when he spoke up, a voice inside of you began to nag that something was off about him. He was never this…sentimental. You brushed it off, telling yourself that it was just the stress of the moment that was making him this way.

“You know,” He spoke up, making you break from your thoughts.You looked over at him again, a small smile spreading across your lips when you caught him growing one himself. “I think this is the longest we’ve gone without arguing while we’re alone.”

“Well, we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye on everything.” You admitted, shrugging it off with another smile while you ran your fingers through your hair. A nervous habit. “But, I haven’t exactly been the most cooperative during this whole trip, to be honest.”

“I’m proud of you, Y/N.” John said, you knew from his tone of voice that he meant it. You felt your eyebrows furrow together from what he was saying. But he didn’t seem taken back like you were at the moment. “And I know your mother would be, too. She would be happy to know that her daughter grew up to be a smart, beautiful woman.” You felt a rosy pink heat begin to creep on the apples of your cheeks, you smiled and looked down at your feet. “I know we’ve had our differences, and I know you and I have said some things, but I don’t want that to affect us. You know I love you like my own child.”

“Yeah. Of course.” You mumbled, suddenly you felt strange. He was talking like he was never going to see you again after this conversation was done. “John, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Y/N, stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine.” John said. His facial expressions could have fooled anyone else, but it made the worry sitting inside your mind begin to grow even more. What he did next wasn’t something that he did often, if ever, the only other time that you remembered was when your mother passed away. You felt your stomach twist into knots when you felt his good arm wrap around you and pull you into a hug.

You stood there frozen in place for a few moments before you let yourself relax with the calming thought that nothing was going to happen. You sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to enjoy the moment, knowing it was the kind of things that happened once in a blue moon. The both of you stayed embraced in the hug for a few seconds, enjoying the safe embrace that he was bringing off. You had always looked up to John as a father figure you never had, someone that you might have butted heads for the dumbest reasons, but he always made sure you were and his boys were safe, doing what was needed to keep all of you from going over your heads.

“Can you promise me just one thing, Y/N?” John asked, breaking the small silence. You nodded your head, wondering what this was really about. “Make sure you keep yourself out of too much trouble, at least, the kind you can get yourself out of.”

You felt a small smile tug at the end of your lips, “I’ll try. But I can’t be certain with those two. And speaking of them, I think it’s time we head back before they start organizing a search party.”

John nodded head before stepping back and allowing you to start walking forward. A feeling of calm washed over your body when you realized that this was the first moment in a long time that the family and you would have a moment where there would be, hopefully, no dreaded talk of that creature or possible hunts to plan. While you knew it was just a matter of time before all of you had to start tracking the demon again, it was nice to know that you could feel just a bit more at ease and enjoy the moment of peace. Something that you haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

When you saw the hospital room number for Dean’s come into view, you popped your head in to see him lying in bed with Sam just at his side, like you had left them. A smile spread across your face when you stepped inside and walked next to the younger brother. “Guess who I found?”

Just a few seconds later, the attention in the room turned towards the door again when you heard a soft knock echoed through. You looked to see that John was standing in the doorway, looking over at his older son with a happy expression. “How you feeling, dude?”

“Fine, I guess.” Dean mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m alive.”

“That’s what matters.” John said. Oh, how right he was.

But a good moment wasn’t too far from being ruined when Sam opened up his mouth, bringing up the subject that you hoped could have been pushed off for a little while longer. “Where were you last night?” Sam questioned, looking over at his father.

“I had to take care of some things.” John said, trying to leave the topic with a simple answer.

“Well, that’s specific.” Sam retorted.

“Come on, Sam.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes at his behavior.

But he ignored your body language, continuing to press his father with questions. “Did you go after the demon?” He asked.

“No.”

“You know, why don’t I believe you right now?” Sam asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Because you’re a little brat.” You muttered underneath your breath, crossing your arms over your chest while Dean let out a sigh, knowing there was bound to be a fight between the duo.

You watched as John took a few steps into the room, while all of you were expecting to hear some sort of authority line come rolling out of his mouth, you were taken back of what he actually said. “Can we night fight?” John asked his son. “You know, half the time we’re fighting, I don’t know what we’re fighting about. We’re just butting heads. Look, Sammy, I’ve,” He swallowed quietly before speaking again. “I’ve made some mistakes. But I’ve always done the best I could. I just don’t want to fight anymore, okay?”

His bottom lip started quivering, you caught it before he composed himself with a smile. But John still looked like he was about to shed a few tears in a moment’s notice. You felt the concern from before slowly start creeping back in. “Dad, are you alright?” Sam asked, sharing the same feelings as you were for the older man.

John nodded his head, he flashed another smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m just a little tired.” He said. “Hey son, would you mind, uh—would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?”

“Yeah.” Sam mumbled, getting the hint that their father wanted some alone time with Dean. You smiled at him and nodded your head for him to follow you, knowing that you could use the energy booster, yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

The both of you walked out of the room to leave the others behind, you looked over your shoulder to see the mood had shifted quickly, towards something that most would describe as a calm before the storm. But you brushed it off as nothing and followed behind Sam now when the both of you headed towards the nearest coffee maker. A sigh of relief fell from your lips when you finally found one with all sorts of flavors to choose from. You grabbed a cup and wasted no time in grabbing yourself a hot drink. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Sam prepared a cup for his father.

“Hey, Sam?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. “Promise me you’ll just end it with him. I know the both of you have some bad blood, but come on, I think we all have had enough. I just want this family to be normal. Well,” You felt a small laugh escaped your mouth. “As normal as you can be, given the situation. Just, can you try, at least for me?”

“Well,” He pretended to think about it while the both of you began to head back towards the room again. You rolled your eyes, giving him a glare. But he smiled at you. “It’s gonna take some time, Y/N. But I have a feeling things are going to get better. Maybe things are really looking up.”

“That’s the spirit, Sammy.” You said, lightly bumping him with your hip as the both of you began to walk down the hall again.

A small silence fell between the two of you while you headed back, you took sips of your drink while you peeked inside open rooms. Most of them were empty while others had a few patients that were being checked up on nurses. But when you looked into one particular one while you pressed your cup to your lips, it never made it when you dropped your gaze down towards the floor. All you remembered happening next was the scolding hot burns that didn’t feel like anything, all you knew was the pounding heart inside your chest and your sweaty palms from what you saw.

Sam was quick to act on the impulse that something was wrong after his father didn’t respond from his name being called. You watched as nearly stormed inside the room, all though it felt like you were going in slow motion, the screams that were bubbling in your chest erupted while you called for help. You wouldn’t stop until you saw at least a few nurses come running towards the room to see what was going on, but in the back of your mind, you knew it was too late.

They tried as hard as they could.

You stood in the doorway with your hands fidgeting at your sides, watching as the nurses and doctors worked on John while Sam went to grab his brother. You turned your head when you heard footsteps echoing down the halls, a pit of sadness erupted into your chest when you saw that it was the brothers again. They tried to make their way into the room, but a nurse stopped them from going any further. 

“No, no, no, it’s our dad!” Dean shouted. “It’s our dad!” 

You and the boys watched as they worked on the man for several minutes, trying everything they could, but still, his heart wouldn’t start again. The dreaded words that none of you wanted to hear echoed in your ears, almost like a taunting rhyme that you would remember for days to come. You pressed a hand towards your mouth to keep a sob from escaping the back of your throat as tears pricked your eyes.

“Okay, that’s it everybody. Time of death—10:41 A.M.”


	2. Everybody Loves a Clown.

John was dead. He was really, really dead.

Neither you or the brothers could have denied the bitter truth any longer while you watched the hues of orange from the fire begin to grow larger, his dead body was wrapped in a cloth, as if that was going to make it any easier on all of you for what was happening. You stood in the middle of an empty field after hiking a few miles through the woods, a proper place to burn a body without being caught by the cops.

This entire concept of a funeral was a bit bizarre to you after they explained what they were going to do. But when you did a bit of research on it, you learned that this was a pretty common, calling it a warrior funeral, dating back all the way towards the viking era. But instead of sending John down a river in a burning boat, the brothers laid his body to rest on a bed of broken branches. With a few splashes of salt for added measures, you watched as his ashes slowly began to rise towards the cloudless night sky.

You turned your head just enough to stare at Dean from the corner of your eye; he stood there with his hands shoved inside the leather jacket that was given to him by his father, one of the few things that still remained. His facial expressions were almost too hard to read. He stared off into space, as if he was trying to make himself emotionless to the both of you. But Sam on the other hand, the poor boy was allowing himself to let it all out with tear stained cheeks. You reached out and wrapped your arm around his, squeezing it while giving him a warm smile, the least you could while the brothers mourned for their unexpected loss.

“Before he,” Sam spoke up, breaking the tension filled air, but he stop when he felt a sob coming on after thinking about the moments before their father’s death. “Before he,” He tried once more, but he still couldn’t get it out. You looked at him, waiting to see what he had to say. “Did he say anything to you?” He asked his brother, hoping the man had some answers for what had gone wrong that night. “About anything?”

Dean fixated his eyes while keeping silent, making you wonder if he was keeping something from you and his brother. John had to have said something, hint at anything to explain what had happened just a few days ago. But if did, Dean wasn’t spilling. “No.” He mumbled. “Nothing.”

You let out a quiet sigh from the response that you weren’t expecting. Out of anyone you knew, Dean wasn’t the type to share his feelings with anyone until he couldn’t contain it anymore. But him keeping secrets wasn’t in his personality. You took your other hand and laid it on his shoulder, but with surprise, he brushed you off, acting as if neither you or Sam weren’t here.

You knew he was a bit distant with everything that had happened; he nearly died, but he lost his father, he lost his chance at getting revenge on the demon that took his mother. You kept telling yourself that he’ll come around when the time was right. But you feared that he never would until it was too late.

\+ + +

A little over week had passed since everything had happened; Bobby had graciously offered to let all of you stay until the time was right to get back on your feet. While you and Sam had found yourself slowly slipping back into tracking down the demon, Dean still remained distant, spending almost all of the visit working on the Impala that was crushed in the accident. He still remained hopeful that he work some magic and get her running again. You tried to keep yourself in the background for a while and let them have their space, but you found yourself becoming like a mother hen, checking up to see how Dean was okay and letting Sam get himself hooked into finding the demon again.

Almost like clockwork you would peek your head out to see if Dean was okay, offer him something to eat when time came towards a meal, ask how the progress was going on the car. Anything to get him to crack and tell you or Sam how he was feeling. You knew too well how grief worked, and all though people go through it differently, Dean still denying to talk about it made you feel uneasy. You just wanted a single damn word out of him, anything to make sure he was okay.

It was the late morning when you stepped out of the house and made your way through the mess of crushed cars to find the one that you had been looking for. You shoved your hands inside the back pocket of your shorts while you took a few steps closer towards the Impala. The sight of her vulnerable state; all torn apart with a dull paint shade of black, still made you flinch as you thought about the accident.

You heard the sound of Dean working underneath the hood, seeing his long legs peeking out, the grease stains on his jeans could be seen. You leaned down slightly to smile at Dean, but you could see the annoyed glare beginning to stretch across his face at your sight again, knowing this was probably going to be the first of many wanted visits.

“How’s the car coming along?” You curiously asked, trying to get the conversation going.

“Slow.” Dean said.

“Yeah?” You said. You tried to keep yourself interested. “You need any help?”

“What—You under a hood? I’ll pass.” He remarked, you rolled your eyes at that comment.

“Need anything else, then?” You asked.

Dean pushed himself out from underneath the car and sat up, he gave you a glare before getting up and heading over towards the shelfs that he was using a toolbox. “Stop it, Y/N.”

“Stop, what?” You asked in an innocent tone, placing your hands on your hips.

“Stop asking me if I need anything.” Dean said. “Stop asking me if I’m okay. I’m okay.” You tilted your head to your side, not believing that for one minute. He forced a small chuckle out while smiling. “Really. I promise.”

“All right, Dean, it’s just,” You spoke up, watching as he stood with his back turned towards you as he continued tinkering around with some mechanic part and wrench. “We’ve been at Bobby’s for over a week now, and you haven’t brought up your dad once.”

“You know what? You’re right.” Dean said. You raised your eyebrows, thinking for a moment that you somehow broke through to him, but what came out his mouth next made you want to slug at him for being so smart with you. “Come here. I’m gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we could even cry and hug and even slow dance.”

“Don’t patronize me, Dean.” You scolded him like a small child. You know you shouldn’t have been yelling at him like this, but you were getting tired of this. “Your dad is dead, the colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this.” He headed back over towards the Impala to work again. “And you’re acting like nothing happened.”

“What do you want me to say?” Dean asked, egging you on to continue fighting.

“Say something, all right? Hell, say anything!” You said, finding that your voice was rising with each word that you spoke. “Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want revenge?” You fired questions at him, as if he was going to answer you. “But all you do is sit out here buried underneath this damn car acting as if nothing happened.”

“Revenge, huh? Sounds good.” Dean remarked, nodding his head. You glared at him when you knew what was coming. “You or Sam got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any Dad’s research that you seem to be so invested in? ‘Cause I sure ain’t.”

You placed your hands on your hips again as he continued to taunt you with sarcasm. “When we do finally find it—oh, no, wait, like you said, the colt’s gone. But I’m sure you figured out another way to kill it while you play Nancy Drew.” You rolled your eyes, diverting your attention on a crushed black SUV that was lying a yard ahead. “We’ve got nothing, Y/N—nothing, okay?” He said, letting the bitter truth finally come out of his mouth. “The only thing I can do is I can work on the car.”

“Well, we got something, all right?” You shoved your hand inside your pocket to pull out a cell phone after Dean crouched down and continued fixing something. “It’s what I came out here to tell you. It’s one of your dad’s old phones. It took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code.” You punched in the code that you memorized and handed it over towards the other man to show him what you found. He stared at the phone for a few seconds, you nodded your head. “Listen to this.”

Dean got up from the ground and grabbed the phone, pressing it towards his heart when the message began playing. “John? It’s Ellen…again. Look, don’t be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me.” He looked up at you again, not sure what you were getting at.

“That message is four months old.” You said, grabbing the phone back from him.

“Dad saved that chick’s message for four months?” He asked, you shrugged your shoulders, clueless as he was about the motive. “Well, who’s Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad’s journal?”

“No, but Sam ran a trace on the number, and we got an address.” You said, rocking your body in the back of your heels, waiting to for him to shoot down the idea. But you were surprised to hear him to the opposite, you kept yourself from letting a smirk spread across your lips. This is exactly what he needed to get himself back to normal, maybe getting him away from the car and this house would get him thinking straight.

“Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars.” Dean said, you nodded your head.

“Already ahead of you. Got everything packed up and ready to go.” You said. You walked over towards the shelves to grab the red cloth that he was previously using, you threw it at him and smiled. “Get yourself cleaned up, grease monkey. We’re leaving in fifteen—with or without you.”

\+ + +

You kept another laugh from escaping your mouth when you felt the minivan jerk forward after Dean accidentally pressed a little too hard on the gas pedal. He had been glaring at you from the rear view mirror for almost all of the ride here, he knew you were finding humor in the situation, and it was pissing him off. You finally pressed your teeth down on your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet, knowing it would only bring him towards his breaking point. After a few hours of driving, you could see the location come in to view.

The call came from what you were presuming was the middle of nowhere, when you looked around, all you could see was miles of empty land before heading off towards a border of trees. A bar called the Roadhouse was just a small, cozy looking place that didn’t seem to be open for business just yet. Looking down at your watch, you noted that it was a little bit after one. Maybe all of you should come back during open hours.

Dean shut off the car after parking and let out an annoyed sigh, glad to have stopped hearing the sound of the tires squealing and the engine rumbling. You were happy to have the radio stop playing the awful music after sticking with some station that only played the oldies. “This is humiliating.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You rolled your eyes while you followed behind the brothers and swung open the backseat door, happy have your thighs not sticking towards the awkward leather from the unwanted heat wave. You stretch out your body while taking a look around the place. “I feel like a friggin’ soccer mom.”

“It’s the only car that Bobby had running.” Sam said, heading up towards the bar.

Just as you began to trail behind, you felt someone take ahold of your wrist. You quickly whipped your head around to see Dean was keeping you pinned in place. You tried to break yourself from his grip, but you couldn’t get loose, you gave him a confused look, wondering what he was doing. “Stay here. We’ll be back in a few minutes.” He said, as if you were going to listen to him. A scoff rolled out from your mouth, making your point. But the glare that he was starting to give you made it known that the time wasn’t right to be playing with his nerves.

You rolled your eyes and snatched your arm back, but crossing them over your chest to make it known that you would keep put. You nodded your head to let him follow behind his brother, who was peeking around to see if there was anyone around. Leaning yourself against the van, you watched as Sam headed towards the back to take a peek around for a second while Dean headed towards the front door. You knew trouble would only follow when Sam tossed over the small kit that held all the proper tools to pick a lock. Shaking your head, you watched as Dean fiddled around with it for a few moments before the both of them headed inside. Looking down at your watch, the smaller hand ticked away toward the twelve. You were giving them five minutes before all hell broke loose.

Suddenly the idea of giving the woman a call before all of you headed up here wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. You knew it would have saved you a lot of trouble after the brothers were breaking and entering a business. And if this Ellen woman was a hunter, you knew things weren’t going to go well if she was around to see them poking around where they weren’t belonged. You let out a sigh, heading over towards the back of the van to grab some backup of your own, just in case.

You swung open the door and leaned over, grabbing the duffel bag that was hidden underneath the other ones that you shoved on top after loading up. You unzipped the bag and shoved around some clothes and the journals before finding what you were looking for, a gun. You took a quick inspection to see that it was loaded and ready to go. You made sure to put the safety on before hiding it in your back pocket, you shoved your shirt down to keep it hidden, hoping you wouldn’t have to use it. But it was better to be safe than sorry. Looking around again, you let out a sigh before heading up toward the bar.

You were as quiet as you could, walking to window where the blinds were parted just enough to take a peek inside. You looked around to see that it was fairly empty, almost no one around except—wait, what was that?

Pressing your nose towards the glass, your eyebrows furrowed when you caught sight of someone that looked to be passed out on top of the pool table. You gawked at the sight for a few moments before you could hear the faint sound of a shotgun cocking back. Turning your head just a little bit towards the right, a growl of annoyance escaped your throat at what you saw. Quickly as you could, you pulled out your gun and made our way towards the front door, knowing that it was time to step in before things got worse.

Counting down from three, you ripped open the door and stepped inside, swinging your arm up and aimed the barrel of the gun at the blonde that was holding a rifle at Dean, who was now leaning down with his hands cupping his nose. But your attention shifted towards the older woman that was pointing a gun at the back of Sam’s head, you closed your eyes and let out a sharp sigh when you realized that the other woman was the one that you had been looking for.

“What the hell? I can’t leave you idiots alone for more than one minute.” You hissed at them. Ignoring their glares, you dropped your gun towards the side when you looked over at the woman. “Look, I’m sorry for this rude welcome, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You introduced yourself with a small smile before and you gave a glare of your own at the boys. “And these idiots are Sam and Dean Winchester. Ring a bell?”

“Sam? Dean? Winchester?” She repeated their names, you nodded your head. “Son of a bitch.”

“Mom, you know these guys?” The blonde asked, confusion rising in her voice when she looked over at the three of you again. You politely smiled when you and her locked eyes for a moment, still knowing she had a gun in her hands. And it seems that she wasn’t afraid to get physical.

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys. And must Ella’s daughter, right?” She asked you, you nodded your head again. She let out a laugh before cocking the gun back and dropping it towards her side. “Hey, I’m Ellen. That’s my daughter, Jo.” 

You watched as Jo lowered her gun, looking back at Dean, who was still trying to get himself to stop bleeding. “Hey.” She said, nodding her head at him.

“You’re not gonna hit me again, are you?” Dean asked her, you furrowed your eyebrows at them, beginning to wonder what he said to piss her off enough to have landed himself in that kind of situation.

“If she doesn’t, I sure will.” You said, shoving the gun back into your pocket for safekeeping. Ignoring his glares that were only getting stronger, you looked over at Ellen with a polite smile. “Mind if we get something cold for his nose? I wouldn’t want him to make more of a mess than he already has.”

Mumbling another thank you to Ellen, you grabbed the dish cloth that was wrapped around a couple of ice cubes she grabbed from the back for Dean’s nose. After getting him to sit still on a stool and cooperate, you gestured for him to lean his head back for a few moments to have the bleeding stop. All though it was just coming out in small drops now, you didn’t want to take a chance at making things even worse. 

You pressed the cloth towards his face and applied just enough pressure to make him wince. Jo must have hit him hard enough to leave a good bruise, you looked at her after he mumbled a few choice words underneath his breath. You had to lick your lips to keep from a smile forming before you were mouthing sorry, allowing him to take over. 

You grabbed one of the stools and took a seat down next to him, putting your elbows on the bar top, taking another look around the place. When you looked over your shoulder, you still couldn’t help but wonder if the guy passed out across the room was even alive. A few seconds of staring at him, you were happy to know that he was breathing steady. You quickly tuned your head back when you heard Dean speak up, resting his hand against the counter for a moment.

“You called our dad, said you could help—help with what?” Dean asked, bringing up the voicemail that had brought the three of you were. It didn’t take long before all of you found the subject was about the one thing that you really didn’t want to be thinking about right now.

“Well, the demon, of course.” Ellen said. You and the brothers looked at one another for a few moments, taken back by the news. She seemed to have known more than you expected. “I heard he was closing in on it. Picking up where Ella left all those years ago.”

“Was there an article in the Demon Hunter’s Quarterly that I missed?” Dean retorted, throwing hands up in the air. You quickly threw him a dirty look to shut him up, but he ignored you. “How do you know about all of this?”

“Hey, I just run a saloon, but hunters have been known to pass through now and again, “ Ella said, you found an eyebrow being raised when she went on. “Including your dad and mom a long time ago. John was once like family, Ella too.”

“How come he’s never mentioned you before?” Dean asked, pressing the cloth back to his nose.

“You’d have to ask him that.” She said. You averted your gaze away for a few moments, it seems that word may travel fast, but not fast enough about his death.

“So,” Dean spoke up after a few moments, breaking the rising awkward tension. “Why exactly do we need your help?”

“Hey, don’t do me any favors. Look, if you don’t want my help, fine. Don’t let the door smack “your ass on the way out.” Ellen said, you felt your lips stretch into a small smile. You could see your mother being good friends with this woman if she was still around. She seemed caring, but took no crap from anyone, including a man like Dean. “But John wouldn’t have sent you if,” She trailed off, the dots slowly connecting together in her mind. She shifted around in her spot, panic slowly rising over in her facial features. “He didn’t send you.” Neither you or the brothers said anything, not wanting to break the news again. But you knew it was coming. “He’s all right, isn’t he?”

“No.” Sam said, shaking his head. “No, he isn’t.”

“It was the demon, we think.” You admitted. The words felt strange, bitter on your tongue when you continued speaking. “It just got him before he got it, I guess. Course, that seems to be happening to anyone who tries to mess with this thing.” You mumbled the last part underneath your breath, dropping your gaze back down towards the ground to ignore the looks of sympathy.

“I’m so sorry.” Ella said, taken back by the news.

“It’s okay.” Dean said. “We’re all right.”

“Really, I remembered Ella was pretty damn near of killing the thing before she retired.” Ellen said, her voice sounded sincere, full of concern when she spoke. “And I knew how close you and your dad—”

“Really, lady, I’m fine.” Dean cut her off, brushing off her sympathy with a rude remark. You threw daggers at him, wondering what had gotten him into such a bad mood. This wasn’t how you treat someone that was willing to help you, fighting grief or whatever, there was no excuse for how he was treating this woman.

“So,” You said, bringing the attention back to the reason why you all were here. “If you think you can help, we could use all the help we could get.”

“Well, we can’t.” Ellen said, looking over at her daughter for a moment before back at you. “But Ash will.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion rising in your voice. “Who’s Ash?”

“Ash!” Ellen called out, just a few seconds later, you heard the sounds of pool balls clashing together and someone’s grunts filling the air. Looking over your shoulder, you watched as the body that was passed out just a few minutes ago, was now sitting up, fumbling around.

He looked like he had just stepped out of some 80’s rocker music video; a ripped up, sleeveless flannel shirt and a mullet. Something you haven’t seen since looking back at of old photos of your parents before you were born. You suppressed a laugh from escaping your mouth, knowing that looks aren’t everything. He might be your only chance at finding this demon again.

“What?” He mumbled out, shifting around so he was facing all of you. “Closing time?”

Sam looked back over at Jo, not sure what he was expecting. “That’s Ash?” He asked, pointing a finger at the man from over his shoulder.

“Mmm-hmm.” She said, nodding her head, a small smile growing. “He’s a genius.”

“Well,” You got up from your seat and looked over at the man again. “Let’s see what he’s capable of. Shall we?”

Excusing yourself, you headed over towards the van to grab all the information that you had on the demon, filing all of it into some old folder that John had to keep yourself from going insane and keeping track of all those loose pieces of paper. You headed up towards the bar where Ash was now sitting, Sam was right across from him, sitting around corner while Dean stood in the middle with his arms crossed. Slamming the folder towards the table and pushing it forward, you nodded your head for him to take it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. This guy’s no genius.” Dean said, you weren’t sure if he was joking or being serious. You leaned yourself against the bartop, rolling your eyes at his comments “He’s a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.”

“I like you.” Ash said, finding humor in the situation.

“Thanks.” Dean said. You could see the smile growing on his face, happy to know that someone else shared the same taste in music as he did, even getting the references that no one did half the time. Well, you didn’t, at least.

“Just give him a chance.” Jo said, now on the opposite side of the bar, she headed over with three glasses a pitcher of water. You looked over at Ash, observing him for a few moments, still not sure he was the man for the job. But he broke out into a grin, shaking your head, you decided to give in and let the man see what all of you knew.

“All right.” You mumbled, getting yourself into a standing position once more while you watched Dean take a seat. “Well, this is about a year’s worth of John’s work, I even added a few notes from my mom’s journal, I think there’s some decent information to go along. She talked about doing more, but I could never find any of it. So,” You leaned in closer as you pushed the folder to him, a smirk spreading across your lips. “Let’ see what you make of it.”

Ash grabbed the folder and wasted no time in dumping out all of the papers, taking a look at what the information that you must have looked over a few dozen times the past week. You took a sip of your water, watching as he stifled through notes, shaking his head as he went in deeper. You couldn’t help yourself but look over at the boys to see what they were making of this. Sam watched as the man worked, still hesitant about letting him see the information their father had worked so hard for. But Dean seemed amused at the scene, a smirk spread across his as Ash continued.

“Come on. This crap ain’t real.” Ash said, looking up at the three of you with disbelief. “Ain’t nobody can track a demon like demons like this.”

The brothers seemed a bit taken back by the comment, you glanced over at the other man and pointed a finger at them. “Their dad could.” You said a matter-of-fact voice.

“These are non parametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations.” Sure, you were smart and you’ve learned a lot more about the supernatural during these hunting trips, more than you have during your own research back home. But you were slowly losing yourself from the vocab when Ash continued to go on, proving that he really was a genius. “I mean…damn.” He stressed out the last word, picking up a map of some sort and observing it for a few moments. “They’re signs, omens. If you can track them, you can track this demon, you know—”

“Like crops failures, electrical storms.” You said, not meaning to cut him off. He snapped his fingers at you, nodding his head, exactly what he was getting at.

“You’ve ever been struck by lightning?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head no. “It ain’t fun.”

“Can you track it or not?” Sam questioned, beginning to grow annoyed.

“Yeah, with this, I think so.” Ash said, holding up two pieces of paper and looking back and forth at each of them before going back towards the pile in front of him. “But it’s gonna take time. Give me,” He closed his eyes and calculated the estimate his head. “Fifty-one hours.”

You were rather surprised to hear that number, but happy to know that it wouldn’t take longer than you thought it was going to be. As you watched Ash grab all the papers, shoving them back into the folder and heading to the back, you couldn’t help yourself but make a comment about his very outdated hairstyle that he seemed to be pulling off so well.

“Hey, Ash!” You called out, smiling when he turned around to look at you. “By the way, I dig the haircut.”

“All business up in the front, party in the back.” He said, flipping around his shoulder length hair to prove his point. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head, having a feeling this genius knew how to have some fun, part of you wanted to see that side after all of this was done. You knew damn well it was time to let loose and have fun.

As you turned your head away from the door, you caught just a glance of Dean, his eyes wandering somewhere that was lower than normal. Following the trail, you noticed him eyeing up the young woman that walked passed. You grabbed your water and averted your attention somewhere else, swallowing the annoyance that began to slowly build, this wasn’t the time to start turning green. You have seen him look at girls like that before, hundreds of time, why were you suddenly like this? And Jo was a nice girl. Who gave a single crap what him and her did in their free time if it just happened to involve those two together? But by the look she gave him, she didn’t seem too interested.

You didn’t know what was going on with you, ever since the crash, you were beginning to feel…strange. Besides the constant paranoia and other nonsense, you were growing something that you thought had died all those months ago with Cassie. This wasn’t the time or place, you felt wrong just even thinking about it. Grief should be taken over your emotions, not envy. You tried to make yourself focus on what was important, like the situation that was sitting in front of you. Tracking this demon was, you reminded yourself. You had work to do.

Turning your head, you caught something that was worth your attention. You caught sight of a manilla folder that was shoved in between some machine and other stacks. But the red sharpie and word murder written on the front made you wonder what it was about. “Hey, Ellen,” You pointed a finger at the shelf that was just across from her. “What’s that?”

She turned her head, wondering what you were observing. “It’s a police scanner. We keep tabs on things—”

“Oh, sorry, no.” You said, smiling sheepishly at her, correcting yourself. “The folder.”

Ellen put down the pitcher she was holding and headed over towards what you were talking about. She seemed a bit hesitant to show you it, grabbing it and observing the folder for a few seconds. “I was gonna give this to a friend of mine,” She said, heading over towards you and Sam, the other brother wandering off somewhere else. “But you can take a look if you want.”

“Thanks.” You said, grabbing the folder and taking an inspection of it. You flipped through the newspaper clippings that seemed to have centered around a circus. Even reading the title of the folder made you itch to know what was inside: Couple Murdered Child Left Alive.

Flipping it open, you dragged it across the counter so you and Sam could take a look to see if this was your kind of thing. The both of you took turns observing the information that was inside, you slowly finding yourself becoming interested to see if this could be a case you and the brothers could work on The meantime while Ash did his own research. You looked up at Sam, giving him a curious look to see if he was invested as he was, with a nod of a head, it seemed that you and him were on the same page.

“Dean, come here.” You called out, nodding your head at the oldest brother and towards the folder. “Check this out.”

You turned your attention back towards the papers when you heard his footsteps echoing off the floors, second later, feeling his presence looming over you when you sight sight of his hand pressed against the wood, a few inches from where you were sitting. You leaned closer against the countertop to give yourself some space from him.

“A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of—looks to me like there might be a hunt.” Sam said, holding up two pieces of paper that he was observing.

“Yeah, so?” Dean asked, not seeming as interested in this as you and his brother were.

“So,” You said, turning around so you were looking at the other brother. You nodded your head towards Ellen that was standing just a foot from the three of you. “I told her we’d check it out.”

\+ + +

You sat in the backseat of the van again with the case file in your lap and a flashlight as your own source of light after the sun went down just an hour ago. You listened towards the sounds of the rainfall hitting the roof and the faulty windshield wipers that didn’t seem like they could keep up with the amount that was coming down. But your attention was ripped away towards the front of the car when you heard Dean speak up, taken back with the possible creature you would be hunting.

“You’ve got to be kidding me—killer clown?” Dean asked, his tone coming out more sarcastic and annoyed, all of this seeming as a joke to him.

“Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents.” You explained, looking over the police report from the murders. “Ripped them to pieces, actually.”

“And this family was at some carnival that night?” Dean continued asking questions, you nodded your head, your finger tracing down the paper until you found the location again.

“Right, the Cooper Carnival.” You answered, tapping your finger at the words.

“How do you know we’re not dealing with some psycho carny in a clown suit?” Dean wondered, still not on board with this hunt. It seemed that he was just trying to find holes to sink this idea.

“The cops have no leads,” Sam said, putting in what information he knew while you continued to hog the file. “And all the employees were tearing down shop—alibas all around.”

“Plus the girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air.” You pointed out. “Cops are saying trauma, of course.”

“I know what you’re thinking Sam,” Dean said, you looked up from the case file and gave the man a confused look, not sure what he was getting at. “‘Why did it have to be clowns?’”

“Oh, give me a break.” Sam mumbled, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“You don’t think I remembered, did you?” Dean asked, a smirk spreading across his lips when he glanced away from the road for a moment to look at his brother. But Sam still wouldn’t say anything. His face stretched into a glare. “Come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” You asked the brothers, not sure what they were arguing about. It took you a few seconds but when it hit you, a smile spread across your face. “Aw, Sammy, you’re afraid of clowns?” You couldn’t help yourself but tease the man, using a baby voice. A laugh escaped your throat when you saw him throw a bitch glare at you after he turned around in his seat. “Well, that explains why you bawled your eyes out at my third birthday party after the clown incident. Still have the picture saved somewhere…I should dig it up and have all of us a good, nice laugh after all of this is taken care of.”

“Hey, you told me you burned that!” Sam nearly yelled at you, a smirk spreading across your lips while Dean broke out laughing himself. “At least I’m not afraid of flying.”

“Planes crash!” Dean argued, hating to be apart of this fight now.

“And apparently clowns kill.” Sam retorted back.

Dean kept quiet for a few moments, knowing that his brother won this argument. He let out an awkward cough before bringing the conversation back to the case. “So, these type of murders,” Dean started again, “They ever happen before?”

“Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers circus.” You answered. “Same M.O—it happened three different times, three different locales.”

“If it’s a spirit, it’s usually bound to a specific locale—a house or a town.” Dean said.

“How’s this one moving from city to city?” You asked, not sure what he was getting at.

“Cursed object, maybe.” Dean suggested, you shrugged your shoulders, knowing it could be a possibly. Sure hasn’t been the first kind of case you and the brothers worked on.

“Spirit attaches itself to something, and the carnival carries it around with them.” Sam continued on with his brother’s theory, seeming that he could have been right. A sigh escaped his lips after he began to realize the pain that this could become if you guys were right. “Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt.”

“This case was your guys’ idea. By the way,” Dean said, making you break your concentration from the file again. You clicked off the flashlight and shoved the papers inside. “Why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.”

“So?” Sam asked, pretending not to know what his brother was getting at.

“It’s just like you two, that’s all.” Dean said. “I thought you guys were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.”

“I don’t know. I just think taking this job, it’s what Dad would have wanted us to do.” Sam said.

“What Dad would have wanted?” Dean repeated his brother, but he ended up turning it into a question. His tone of voice was full of disbelief at his brother’s excuse to take this case.

“Yeah.” Sam said. “So?”

Dean kept himself quiet for a few moments, you and Sam looked at him, wondering what he was trying to get at. But whatever he was thinking, he didn’t seem to feel like sharing. After looking out the road for a few moments, he glanced over at his brother, shaking his head. “Nothing.” he mumbled, turning his attention back towards the road, and leaving the conversation at that.

\+ + +

Another afternoon arrived when the van pulled up towards the circus that was in full motion; people around the place, rides going around with screams being heard from the open windows and clowns being questioned by police officers. Looking at the brothers, you knew this killer clown had struck down and killed another set of victims You jumped out after you heard the engine shut off and two sets of doors open, you wasted no time in heading for the cops, having a few questions yourself for them.

As you turned your head to see if they were following you, a groan escaped your lips when you saw that Dean was trailing behind and Sam was making his way towards the fence, obviously not wanting to be even near a foot that resembled a clown. Rolling your eyes, you looked forward and continued talking. “Baby.” You hissed underneath your breath, all before stretching your lips into a fake grin when you spotted one of the officers, here goes nothing.

You and Dean spoke to the cops for a few minutes, learning what you had already suspected when you pulled up here about what they were investigating. You found out that a couple was murdered in their bed, their son kept alive, claiming a clown did it, the same one he found lurking around the circus he was visiting with his father. It seemed this creature had claimed a second victim.

With the knowledge in hand, you and him made your way back towards Sam, your attention roaming around the grounds, watching as families walked around, pointing at rides and laughing at the fun they were having. But you felt someone tapping your shoulder, breaking your concentration from something. You whipped your head to see that Dean was nodding at a sight that was coming up. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked straight ahead to see something you weren’t expecting. A laugh nearly escaped you when you watched as a woman dressed in clown costume had a staring contest with Sam. And the look on his face was nothing but fear, even after she walked away from him.

“Did you get her number?” Dean asked, breaking his brother from his concentration on her. Sam stared at his brother for the longest time, not finding this situation as humorous as you and the oldest Winchester were.

“More murders?” Sam asked, hoping to get the conversation going again.

“Two more last night.” You answered with a nod of the head. “Apparently, they were ripped to shreds, and they had a little boy with them.”

“Who fingered a clown.” Sam mumbled to himself. You and Dean looked at him for a few moments. “What?”

“Yes, a clown,” Dean said. “Who apparently vanished into thin air.”

“Dean, you know,” You said, hating to be the one to bring up the small flaw in his plan when you looked around the carnival. The more you looked at it, the bigger it seemed. “Looking for a cursed object, it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack of needles.” You could see him furrowing his eyebrows at your analogy. “It could be anything.”

“Well, it’s bound to give off EMF, so we’ll just have to scan everything.” Dean suggested, you rolled your eyes this idea of a plan.

“Oh, good.” Sam said, letting out a sarcastic laugh. “That’s nice and inconspicuous.”

You looked around for a few moments, but your attention was drawn towards a help wanted sign. A smile spread across your lips when another idea lit up in your mind. Nodding your head towards the tent entrance, you watched as two men in red jacket; one was carrying a box away while the other packed up the ladder and followed be. “I guess we could always blend in.” You suggested, adding on to Dean’s plan.

Now all of you just had to find the man and see if he was willing to hire the three of you on the spot, a sigh fell from your lips, beginning to realize the burden this case was becoming. Maybe you should have listened to Dean and just stayed put.

Following behind the brothers, you wandered into the opening of the tent to hear the sounds of something hitting against wood, after you took a few more steps inside, you saw a sight you weren’t expecting. An older man was practicing his knife throwing skills, grabbing two blades from behind before taking a swing, making almost a perfect bullseye each time. You were impressed to see that he was fairly good, you began to wonder if he was part of the act. But there wasn’t something special about knife throwing unless you were going to see some assitant spinning around a big wheel, just like in all those old movies about freak shows and circuses you used to watch. Now that is something people would pay to see.

“Excuse me.” Dean spoke up towards the man. “We’re looking for a Mr. Cooper. Have you seen him around?”

“What is that—some kind of joke?” He asked, his voice raspy and guff. You turned your head to look at the man, not sure what was making him so upset. But your mouth fell open when he took off his sunglasses, revealing a hazy gray color. The man was blind. Well, that was something.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry.” Dean tried to apologize, obviously not knowing.

“You don’t think I would give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper or a sunset or anything at all?” The man rambled on, seeming that he was more than pissed off after not recognizing his disability.

Dean turned his head to look at you and Sam, becoming uncomfortable with the situation, but you and his brother were enjoying every moment of it to see him get himself out of this one. “Want to give me a little help here?” He mumbled, giving you and Sam and annoyed glare.

“Not really.” Sam admitted, breaking out into a smile.

“Hey, Barry, is there a problem?”

You looked around to see if there was anyone there, but you had to bend your head down to see the man, he must have been another performer from his outfit. Dean tried to shake his head, but Barry seemed to continue speaking, showing off his anger.

“Yeah,” He said. “this guy hates blind people.”

“No, I don’t.” Dean forced out a nervous chuckle, looking back at the blind man.

“Hey, buddy,” The performer spoke up, bring the attention back to him. “What’s your problem?”

“Nothing. It’s just a little misunderstanding.” Dean tried to clear things up, but he only made things worse. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing.

“Little?” He hissed out, aiming up his stick of some sort, getting ready to take a hit at Dean, who was trying to back away before the other man could do any harm. “You son of a bitch!”

“No, no, no! Could someone please tell me where Mr. Cooper is?” Dean asked, getting his tone into almost a pleading oe. You and Sam were now shamelessly laughing, eating up the scene of the man squirming around, trying to figure out how to get himself out of this mess. “Please?”

\+ + +

“You kids picked a hell of a time to join up.” Mr. Cooper said, walking up the trailer steps, taking in lead while the rest of you followed behind into his office. You took the last step up and looked around to see there was a desk and two chairs, other sorts of things that could be related towards the carnival could be found hanging on the walls. “Take a seat.” 

A smile spread across your lips when you watched as the brothers looked at one another for a few moments, wondering who was going to take the clown chair, you knew Sam wasn’t going to offer it up, you took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest, nodding for them to take the fight. 

The two of them stared at one another for a few moments while the other man took his seat from across the desk, you pressed your teeth into your tongue to keep a small laugh escaping you when you saw Dean try to steal the regular office chair from his brother. Sam was close to winning, but the oldest one pushed him away just as Mr. Cooper looked over at the men to get the conversation going, and missing the little fiasco that just unfolded. 

You walked over and stood behind the brothers, resting your hands on top of the clown chair, watching as Sam forced himself to sit, but he couldn’t get himself to do it. Just the sight of him growing with fear and fidgeting like a child was becoming too amusing. But you brought your attention back towards the other man that was speaking when you caught sight of the glare that Sam was giving you, another polite smile spread across your face when you listened to the older man continue talking about the situation that was going on. 

“We’ve got all kinds of local trouble.” Mr. Cooper said, you gave him a curious look.

“What do you mean?” You asked. But your attention was slowly shifting down towards Sam again, he was now hovering over the chair, his hands on the arms rest as he tried to lower himself down, but each time that he was close contact with it, he would snap right up. You bit your tongue and put your hand on his shoulder, shoving him down with all your might. For a man with his height and size compared to your own, he was easier to take down than you thought it would be. 

“A couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first.” Mr. Cooper said, but he quickly got himself back towards the interview that he promised after finally hunting him down after the fiasco the oldest Winchester caused. “So, have you three worked the circuit before?” 

“Uh, yes, sir.” Sam said, managing not to drop the ball after you and Dean weren’t so quick to answer the man’s question. “Last year through Texas and Arkansas.”

“Doing what?” He asked. Your mouth fell open slightly, trying to think of jobs off the top of your head before he started listing off a few that you’ve never heard of before. “Ride jockeys? Pull shoot? A-and-S men?” 

“Little bit of everything, I guess.” Sam said, looking at the two of you before back at the man.

Mr. Cooper observed all of you for the longest time, knowing that there was something wrong with the story that you were trying to pull on him. It seemed that he was quicker to catch on towards the bogus story than most. “You three have never worked a show in your lives, have you?” He asked, pressing for the truth. 

Dean licked his bottom tip and tucked in between his teeth before answering the man. “Nope.” He said, actually being honest for once. “But we really need the work.” All was going well, until he decided to be a smart ass and pull some comments that weren’t very appropriate for the place you were trying to get hired at. “Y/N’s always dreamed of running away from the circus and Sam, well, he’s got a thing for the bearded lady.” He thought it was funny, letting out a laugh while you and his brother looked at him with annoyance, hoping that he would shut up before he said something that would blow your chances of putting another successful hunt under your belt. 

“You see that picture?” Mr. Cooper asked, gesturing towards the frame that was sitting on top of the filing cabinet with his thumb. You furrowed your eyebrows, noticing the eerily similar appearance, you were beginning to think that it was him, but the man corrected you before you take another guess. “That’s my daddy.” 

“You look just like him.” You said, giving him a smile. 

“He was in the business—ran a freak show till they outlawed them in most places.” He said. “Apparently displaying the disfigured isn’t dignified. So, most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That’s progress, I guess.” 

You and the brothers were listening to what the man was saying, but it seemed that he was thinking you weren’t getting the message he was trying to send all of you. This was a place for freaks. He didn’t think you were anything special by the looks of all you; anyone would think you were normal from a quick glance. But you knew there was something different about all of you on the deeper surface. One was a psychic wonder, another somehow cheated death and you seemed to have been on the fence thinking that something was off about you ever since the accident. 

“You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts, always has been, for folks to fit in nowhere else. But you three,” He leaned over the desk as he continued talking. “Should go to school, find a husband, a couple of girls, have two point five kids, live regular.” 

A look of annoyance began to become sketched across your face, knowing that he was trying to swoon all of you away from the job that you needed in order to get this hunt down without raising more suspicious. But when you saw Sam lean over in his seat to face the man in the eye, you watched as he took control of the situation and lied perfectly, fooling the man into making it seem that all of you really wanted this job.

 

"Sir, we don’t want to go to school. And we don’t want regular.” Sam said, persuading the man with each word that he spoke. “We want this.” 

Mr. Cooper looked at Sam for a few moments, like he was repeating the lies inside his head, and with each second that passes, he was beginning to believe them. With a nod of the head, your lips stretched into a smile again, he mumbled something, but catching the words that said all of you had gotten the job. 

\+ + +

“Huh.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath. You turned your head when all of you walked through the carnival after speaking to the other man. All though there was nothing but silence between the three of you, there was a feeling beginning to cloud the air, you had a suspicion it was about what had Sam said. Maybe it wasn’t all lies. 

“What?” Sam asked, wondering what his brother was trying to bring up. 

“That whole ‘I don’t want to go back to school’ thing—were you just saying that to Cooper?” Dean asked, beating around the bush before saying what was on his mind. “Or were, you know, saying it?” The lack of silence from the youngest brother was beginning to make you curious for the answer, so was his brother. “Sam?”

“I don’t know.” Sam mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You don’t know?” Dean repeated. “I thought that one was the demon was dead and the fat lady sings, that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State.”

“I’m having second thoughts.” Sam admitted. You looked over at the man with a surprised look spreading across your face, not sure if you were happy about hearing the news. You would have loved for him to stick around, but you knew that going to college was important to him.

“Really?” You asked, arching an eyebrow up as all of you stopped walking for a moment. 

“Yeah. I think,” Sam started speaking, but he turned his head away to look at something in the difference. He let out a sigh before continuing. “Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job." 

"Since when do you give a damn about what Dad wanted?” Dean asked. “You spent half your life doing what he didn’t want.”

You were a bit taken back by his response, coming from the man that had wanted him back since the first hunt all of you worked on together. You thought he was going to be happy about the news that he was following in the family footsteps, but he seemed more annoyed with how his brother was hoping about the decision. Every child was different. There were always going to be the rebellious age of fighting with your parents and doing the opposite, all of your old friends did if, you remembered the small streak that you did during teen years that your mother quickly snapped you out of before it got worse. But it seemed that Dean didn’t have a chance to feel a little rebellious with the constant pressure his father put on him. 

“Since he died, okay?” Sam said, looking at his brother. Dean nodded his head, acting as if he understood, but you had a feeling it was just the older brother in him making his disapproval from the sudden change of heart in the youngest one. “You have a problem with that?” 

Dean was quiet for the longest time, staring at his little brother. “No, I don’t have a problem with that.” He repeated the other man. Flashing off a sarcastic smile, he turned around and began walking again, leaving the two of you to wonder if what he say saying was the truth or just a big, fat lie. 

You and Sam stared at one another for a few moments, you knew from the lingering silence that he was waiting for you to say something. But you threw your hands up, leaving whatever advice he was hoping for from you to make up on his own. There was no point of you getting into this fight, it had been growing even before you reconnected with the brothers, and it was their problem to fix it. You forced a small smile before walking again, pushing your way through the crowd to get your new uniform for the job you were despising with each passing moment. 

\+ + +

It had only been three hours since you took the job, and you were complaining to yourself with each piece of trash you picked up from the ground. You had never been so thankful for the people that did this job without mentioning a single woe. As the day went on, the list was beginning to grow longer; your feet hurt, you were roasting in the red jacket that was considered your uniform and the dull buzzing from the EMF reader was beginning to give you a headache.

You jammed the earbud deeper into your ear as you glanced around the carnival, everyone had went on their way without saying a single word to you, not even asking where the bathrooms were. You had saw the sight of them, and you wouldn’t step inside them if you were forced to. You picked up another piece of trash as you wandered towards the ferris wheel the reader still buzzed, making small louder pings when you passed by, probably from the wiring of the place, nothing that would make you grow with suspicion.

As you wandered deeper into the carnival, you caught sight of a haunted house that a few people were going in and out of. You weren’t going to think any more of it, but that was, until you saw a familiar figure approaching from the other side of the building. The two of you made eye contact, Sam nodded his head towards the building to inspect the inside. While he took a sweep around to see if anyone was coming, you headed up first, taking the staircase before peeking you head inside to see what was lingering before you.

The place was dark; but the door frames were covered with a neon glow that could light the way. You could see there were mirrors that made your body look short or rather wide in the hips, or fooled you into thinking it was a passageway. Creepy carnival music echoed through the halls and flashing lights blinked rapidly while you walked deeper into the maze. You turned your head slightly when you heard the similar buzzing ringing in your ears, Sam was trailing behind, taking a reading of whatever he could get his hands on.

This place was nothing more than cheap voice overs that were supposed to make you feel uneasy and jump scares you had seen a hundred times from all the haunted houses you used to go to when you were younger with your school friends. You tilted your head to the side when you stopped and stared at a display of a jared severed head and what you were presuming to be a fetal baby. Out of curiosity, you tapped on the glass, scrunching up your nose when you watched as the small body shook from the vibrations.

You stepped away from the display and headed back to Sam who was now at least a few feet ahead of you, still scanning every corner of the hall. As you reached inside your pocket for your own, the next thing that came out of your mouth was a small gasp—the ceiling opened up and down came falling a skeleton that was hanging off a rope. But soon the noise turned into a laugh when you caught sight of the youngest Winchester’s face. He was more taken by jump scare than you were. For a big, bad hunter that he grew up as, you were beginning to find it more unbelieveable with each passing moment of this job.

The both of you headed out after Sam inspected the skeletons to see if there was anything strange about it, but to your dismay, there was something off about it. You shoved your hands inside your jacket pocket as you looked around the place, watching as people passed you by, Sam pulled out his cell phone to call his brother. After two rings, you heard him answer, and just hearing his voice, he didn’t seem to be in a happy mood.

“Hello?”

“Hey, man.” Sam greeted, trying to sound normal, but you could still hear the tension in his voice. You felt the ends of your lips twitch into a smirk, you turned your head before he could notice it.

“What’s the matter? You sound like you saw a clown.” Dean said. You could just see the smile growing from the amusement he was getting at his brother’s fear.

“Very funny.” Sam muttered. You followed behind as he began to take a few steps forward. A small pause before, “Skeleton, actually.”

“Like a real, human skeleton?” Dean questioned.

“In the fun house.” Sam said. You had to roll your eyes at what he was suggesting, but the brothers had seen a lot more than you have, anything was possible. People can be desperate to attract people to these kind of things if there was talk of real human remains. “What if the spirit isn’t attached to a cursed object? What if it’s attached to its own remains?”

“Did the bones give off EMF?” Dean asked.

“Well, no, but—”

“We should check it out, anyway.” Dean said, cutting off his brother. “I’m heading to you.”

\+ + +

Fifteen minutes had passed since you and Sam heard from his brother, you tapped your foot against the ground, beginning to grow worried about his whereabouts. You were beginning to debate with yourself if you should give him a call, but it wasn’t needed when you saw him. A frown stretched across your lips when you and the other Winchester met up in the middle.

“What took you so long?” You asked him, throwing your hands up to make a point.

“Long story.” He said. As he opened his mouth to explain, what you heard next made your head whip to see where it was coming from.

You stared at a little girl that was standing next to her mother, you trailed over to see what she was pointing at with her arm stretched forward. “Mommy, look at the clown.” She said.

“What clown?” Her mother asked, her facial features growing with concern. You furrowed your eyebrows as you took a few steps forward to see what the little girl was staring at. But as you scanned the area, nothing was around.

“He disappeared.” She said in a nonchalant tone.

“Come on, sweetie.” Her mother grabbed her daughter gently by the shoulder and turned her around, walking forward as they made their way through the crowd. “Come on.”

You and the brothers stared at one another for a few moments. It seemed that the spirit had found another family to claim as his next victim. But just to be safe, you followed behind the couple and their daughter for the rest of the day until closing. You had hoped all of you could stop this in time before the killer clown struck down again.

\+ + +

Night had fallen when the van pulled up towards the house where the family had lived. You watched as they headed inside and went towards their living room, being able to see everything from the window with their curtains opened and the lights on. But your attention was ripped away from the sight when Sam spoke up, and from his tone of voice, he sounded annoyed.

“Dean, I cannot believe you told the Papasian about about the homicidal phantom ghost.” Sam complained, bringing up the reason why the other brother was late for the meeting. it seemed that he was chatting away with the blind man after he confronted his suspicions about Dean.

“I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom ghost.” He corrected the younger man.

An eyeroll was about to come from you, but you leaned forward in your seat when you caught sight of the shotgun that Dean was holding up as if it was nothing. You grabbed a hold of it and shoved it down in his lap, giving him an annoyed look, as if he show have know better. “Keep it down.” You said, shaking your head at his move.

Dean mumbled something underneath his breath while he glanced over at the house again, but he turned his attention back to you and Sam when he thought of something else. “Oh, and get this.” He said. “I mentioned the Bunker Brothers Circus back in ‘81 and their evil-clown apocalypse. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for the Bunker Brothers.” Dean explained. You gave him a surprised look, wondering if that could be related towards what had been happening now. “He was their lot manager.”

“So, you think whatever the spirit is attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?” You asked.

“Something like that.” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. He turned his head to continue observing the house, letting a small amount of silence fall between the three of you for the moment before he mumbled underneath his breath, “I can’t believe we keep talking about clowns.”

You leaned back in your seat and stared at the window, slowly starting to wonder if this had been the weirdest case you and the brothers had worked on. Sure, you had seen a lot of things, dealt with a lot of spirits that craved blood, but a murderous clown spirit was a new one. You just wanted the catch this thing before it murdered another couple and traumatized another child for life.

A few hours passed since the stakeout started, while you had made yourself stay focus, it was inevitable to push off the sleep that had been began to make your eyelids slowly drop down. You had managed to snag at least a half n’ hour nap before you felt someone push you awake. As you were beginning to feel yourself grow grumpy from the sudden jolt, you turned your head to look at the window again, but the mood changed when you saw the lights turn on and the little girl trail across the room, heading for the front door. Neither you or the brothers wasted any time in sneaking your way into the house and stopping this before it turned south.

While the clown was taking the front door, the rest of you snuck in the back and took your positions to make sure this went safety. You pressed your backside against the wall, hearing the little girl’s voice echo as she trailed forward, holding hands with the clown as they made their way towards the stairs. You peeled out just far enough when you heard her voice becoming louder, she was just a foot away from you when you jumped out and snatched her away from the clown.

Her screams pierced your ears when you dropped to your knees and shielded yourself with your body. Holding her close, you hear Dean shout at the spirit, taking his chance, two gunshots went off. You pulled the girl closer to keep her away from the spray of rock salt. As you looked over your shoulder to see if the spirit was gone and Dean cocked the gun back to take another shot, you were taken back at the sight of the clown slowly getting up and standing on his two feet.

“Y/N, watch out!”

You thought the clown was going to try and take charge at you, but to your surprise, you watched as he turned around and jumped through the glass door that you and the brothers used to get in here, all before vanishing from sight. And that’s when all hell broke loose.

The sounds of a bedroom door opening and screams of questions coming from the parents could be heard while you stumbled back to your feet. You didn’t know what to do, fearing more of what the mother was going to do from the look she was giving you and the father charging forward. But the little girl seemed more upset that you had shot her clown. You managed to catch the last sentence before you ran as fast as you could towards the van, throwing yourself in the backseat and slamming the door shut before you heard the sounds of tires squealing.

\+ + +

All of you drove until you could find a proper place to store the van, deciding it was safer to walk on foot and find somewhere to crash until you found out what you were dealing with. You had a feeling that a spirit wasn’t responsible for all these killings. But you weren’t sure what it was. You shoved the last remaining scrap of clothes into your bag before you zipped it up and slung it over your shoulder. You slammed the sliding door shut and followed behind the brothers after they gathered up their own belongings and made their way out of the overgrown weeds.

“You really think they saw our plates?” You asked after you caught Dean shoving them inside the bag. All of you had gotten out of there pretty quickly, but it was better to be safe than sorry if a neighbor had came out to see what the chaos was about.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to take the chance.” Dean said, slamming the trunk shut and walking toward the long stretch of pavement that lead towards the town. “Besides, I hate this freaking thing anyway.” You took one more glance at the car and frowned when you knew he was right, you sure did miss the Impala. It sure smelled and sounded better than that ugly, ass van.

You and the boys walked down the road for a few minutes in silence, you adjusted your bag a few times to keep it from falling. “Well, one thing’s for sure.” Dean spoke up again, you looked over your shoulder to see if any cars were coming, but it seemed that the coast was clear.

“What’s that?” You asked, turning your head to look at him.

“We’re not dealing with a spirit.” He said. “That rock salt hit something solid.”

“Yeah, a person, or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?” Sam suggested a theory, you shrugged your shoulders.

“And it dresses up as a clown for kicks?” You asked, sounding more sarcastic than you had thought. “Did it say anything in your dad’s journal?”

“No.” Sam said, shoving his hands inside his jacket pocket to pull out his phone. As he began to punch a number in, Dean looked over to see what he was doing.

“Who you calling?”

“Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something.” Sam said. He looked up from his phone and gave the two of you a smirk. “Hey, you think, uh,” You gave him a curious look, wondering what he was trying to hint at. “You think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?”

“No way.” Dean said, shooting down the idea.

“Then why didn’t he tell us about her?” The other brother asked.

“I don’t know.” Dean admitted. “Maybe they had some sort of falling-out.”

“Yeah.” Sam mumbling, bringing his attention back down to the phone for the moment before speaking again, putting her phone to his ear. “You ever notice Dad had a falling-out with just about everybody?” But Dean remained silent, keeping his attention on the road ahead. Sam hit the end button and dropped his arm back to his side. “Don’t get all Mauldin on me, man.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, as if he was pretending to not know what you and Sam were picking up on.

“I mean this strong, silent thing of yours. It’s crap. I’m over it.” Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes, still keeping up the act. “This isn’t just anyone we’re talking about. This is Dad. We know how you felt about the man.”

“Back off, alright?” Dean snapped at his brother. “Just because I’m not caring and sharing like you guys want me to—”

“No, no, no. That’s not what this is about. Dean.” Sam cut off his brother, wagging his finger. “I don’t care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man.”

You turned your head to see that Dean was becoming more annoyed with each word that was being spoken. You stared at Sam for a few moments, you could see the concern beginning to grow in his facial expressions.

“Listen, he’s your brother, all right?” You tried to defend Sam, while showing your own growing worries that were only becoming worse from the lack of communication. “We just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Dude, I’m okay! I’m okay!” Dean shout at the both of you. Suddenly it seemed that he was at his breaking point. “I swear, the next person who asks if I’m okay, I’m gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, Sam. Stop dumping them on me.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he stopped in the middle of the road, following behind his brother’s actions.

“I just think it’s interesting—this sudden obedience you have towards Dad.” Dean said. You glared at the older man, knowing that what he was saying was hurtful. But he wasn’t stopping himself. “It’s like, ‘Oh, what would have Dad want me to do?’ Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. Hell, you picked a fight the last time you ever saw him, and now you want to make things right? Well, I’m sorry Sam, but you can’t. It’s too little, too late.”

You could see the hurt beginning to grow in Sam’s eyes from what his brother was saying to him, taken back by the backlash of his actions that neither of you were expecting to hear. “Why are you saying this to me?”

“Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this.” Dean yelled. “I’m dealing with Dad’s dead. Are you?”

Sam stared at his brother for the longest time, the words slowly sinking in. After a pause, he finally spoke up. “I’m gonna call Ellen.” He said. You watched as he headed over towards the other side of the road, leaving you and the brother alone in silence. When Sam turned his back towards the two of you, you crossed your arms over your chest and gave Dean a glare.

“What?” He snapped at you again, but you weren’t afraid of his temper.

“Keep building that wall, Dean.” You mumbled to him. “Soon, you’ll have no one left.”

You saw his mouth open, but you turned your body around and headed over towards the other side of the road, not bothering to hear what he had to say. He had said enough to know that whatever it was, could only hand him a slap across the mouth from you. There was little patience in you today, and you weren’t going to let Dean test them.

A few minutes later, you turned your head when you heard footsteps coming up from behind you, seeing that both of the brothers were making it over. Sam finished up the phone call with Ellen as the three of you began to walk down the road again, acting as if the fight had never happened when you knew what you were dealing with. It seemed that all of you needed a breather to catch your thoughts and put them straight before heading back to the case.

“Rakshasa.” Sam said, he shoved his phone inside his jacket while walking forward.

“What’s what?” You asked.

“Ellen’s best guess. It’s race of ancient hindu creatures ” Sam explained to the both of you. “They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited in.”

“So, they dress up like clowns, and the children invite them in.” Dean said. “Why don’t they just munch off the kids?”

“Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?” Sam suggested.

“What else did you find out?”

“Apparently, rakshas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of insects.” Sam explained. Your nose scrunched up at that information you weren’t expecting to hear. “And they have to feed a few times every twenty to thirty years—slow metabolism, I guess.”

“That makes sense—the carnival, today,” Dean said. “the bunker brothers in ‘81.”

“Right.” You said, nodding your head. “And probably more before that.”

“Sam, Y/N, who do we know that worked both shows?” Dean asked.

“Cooper?”

“Cooper.”

“You know, that picture of his father,” You said. “it looked just like him. You think maybe it was him?”

“Well, who knows how old he is?” Sam said, clueless as you were.

“Ellen say how to kill him?” Dean asked.

“Legend goes a dagger made out of pure brass.” Sam explained, you began to wonder where you could find access to one. But then it hit you, knowing who might have one lying around.

“I think I might know where to get one of those.” Dean said, seeming that he was thinking about he same person as you were.

“Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper,” You stopped the plan before it could get bloody and ending in an attempted murder charge. “We’re gonna make sure it’s him.”

“Oh, you’re such a stickler for details, Y/N.” Dean said, looking down at you. You rolled your eyes, but felt a smile growing on your lips. “Alright, Y/N and I will round up the blade. You go see if Cooper’s got bedbugs.”

With the nod of the head, the three of you continued walking down the road and headed towards the carnival, getting ready to take down the clown that would give Stephen King’s It a run for the hills.

\+ + +

By the time you and the brothers made it back to the carnival, night had fallen and the crew were began tearing down the rides as the last of the customers were finding their way out. Sam trailed off from you and Dean, taking his chance to see if Cooper was the killer that you were suspecting. You and the other brother had walked around until you found Barry, hoping that some made up story would have swoon the blind man into helping you find the knife that was needed to kill this monster. With a little persuasion and addition to the bogus story that Dean made up earlier, you trailed behind as the older man lead the both of you to his dressing room to see if he happened to have one lying around.

“Well, I’ve got all kinds of knives.” Barry said, tapping his walking stick against the ground as he followed in front towards the tent that you had originally met him at, his dressing room attached in the back. He opened up a door with a gold star on top and stepped inside. The interior wasn’t something that would be considered anything fancy, but it seemed cozy enough with the special touches around the room. “I don’t know if I got a brass one, though.”

You heard Dean shut the door behind him after you stepped inside, you turned your head when the older man’s walking stick tapped against the rather large trunk that was just across from the doorway. While he headed forward, he suggested that the both of you check to see if there was one lying around by chance. You turned around and grabbed the top to pull it open, the metal hinges creaked as you pushed it all the way open. You looked around to see there wasn’t much inside; mostly just old costumes that smelled like dust and a black sheet that covered up what you couldn’t see.

Dean leaned down and removed the sheet, tossing it off towards the side and busying himself with finding what the both of you came here to do. But what else you saw lying on top made your face scrunch up with confusion, something about what you were seeing seemed eerily familiar to you. Dean grabbed the red wig while you crumbled the old, dirty look custom that you had seen before, last night when you were at the little girl’s house. Immediately, you flickered your gaze up to Dean, wondering if he had made the same discovery as you. By the look on face, it seemed that the both of you were now on the same page.

You threw the clown outfit down and looked over your shoulder, Dean snapped up and stared at the other man, beginning to realize that the both of you were in the same room as the creature you tried to kill last night. And you had a feeling he remembered your faces, which meant, he probably wasn’t too happy to see either of you. “You?” Dean asked.

The walking cane dropped towards the ground with a rather loud thud, echoing off from the silence that had fallen through the room, next, you watched as he took off his sunglasses and flashed the both of you a smirk. “Me.” He said, finding this all rather amusing.

You tilted your head to the side as you felt your eyebrows furrow when you watched as his eyes turned cat like, his lips stretching into a cheshire smile, changing into his true form—all before he vanished altogether, leaving you to gawk at Dean for just the slightest second, not sure what to do in the situation that he had left the both of you in. You weren’t sure if the creature was still lurking around the room, or if he had decided to go look for the other brother. Bne thing was for sure; you weren’t going to stick around and find out the answer.

Dean bolted for the door when the both of you were began thinking that the creature was gone from the room. To your dismay, all you could do was stand back and watch as he tried his hardest to get the door to unlock, but things were only just getting worse for the both of you at what happened next.

A gasp of panic escaped your throat when seconds later you heard the sounds of something slamming against the wooden door. Your eyes widened in fear when you saw that it was a knife, landing just a few inches from where you were standing. This creature had proved itself that he was skilled with sharp objects.

But to drive the point farther, you and Dean stumbled backwards when you saw another knife coming, this time aiming at your head as the target. You kept looking around the room to see if he was around, all thought, he still kept himself invisible to the naked eye.

“All right!” Dean shouted, becoming tired of the games that this monster was trying to pull on all of you, taking revenge from the previous night.

You didn’t have much time to look around for another attack before the door was finally opened and Dean grabbed a hold of your hand, yanking your body forwards to start running for your lives. The both of you stumbled a bit while trying to get out of there, but you took one more glance over your shoulder before you ran as fast as you could with your heartbeat ringing inside your ears from the adrenaline that pumped through your veins.

As you saw the tent slowly become nothing more than a small figure in the distance, your head was whipped around towards the back of you when you heard someone familiar shout at you and Dean. You let out a sigh of relief when you caught yourself just in time before you slipped on the grass, happy to see it was just Sam. But he seemed more confused from the state of you and his brother were in when you headed up towards him to get this mess straightened out.

“So, Cooper thinks I’m a peeping Tom,” Sam started off the conversation, you gave him a confused look while you scanned over the area to see if you catch sight of the creature. “But it’s not him.”

“Yeah, so we gathered.” Dean muttered. He took a few steps forward and overlooked the carnival grounds to see if he could find him, but the thing was still hiding. “It’s the blind guy.” He said, whipping back around to look at his brother. “He’s here somewhere.”

“Well, did you get—”

“The brass blades? No.” You said, rolling your eyes at the situation and the lack of luck that always seemed to follow on these hunts. “It’s just been one of those days.”

The three of you looked around for a few moments, trying your hardest to make out even a strange shadow figure in the darkening skies and the fog that was beginning to set over. You were about to let out a sigh, but it was quickly swallowed when you watched as Sam headed in the direction of the haunted house, coming up with a plan.

“I’ve got an idea.” Sam said. “Come on.”

You and the brothers ran across the carnival fields until the familiar building came into view, still not sure what Sam had in mind. You stepped inside after heading up the steps, as you looked around the place, you let out a groan of pain when you felt your body roughly slam against a pair of sliding doors that happened to shut just after the brothers got passed without a problem. This night just keeps on getting better and better.

The brothers called out your name as you heard banging coming from the other side, wondering where you had wandered off to. You slammed your fist against the doors, hoping that somehow it would make them open, but the track of evil laughter mocked your failed attempts “Y/N,” You heard Sam call out your name, loud enough for you to hear. “Find the maze, okay?”

You turned around and looked down at the narrowing hallway, wondering if you could remember how this haunted house went, but it seemed that you kept thinking about the creepy music that wasn’t helping the scene and the fact that there was an invisible monster lingering around the place. Still, you sucked in whatever nervous feeling that was clouding your judgement and retraced your steps from this morning; passing the familiar severed head that was in the far, the mirrors that distorted your body and trying your hardest to hear the faintest sound of familiar voices.

But all you could hear was the carnival music that seemed extra hysterical and your breathing that was becoming even heavier as you made your way down the halls. Just as you turned the corner and made your way down, you felt yourself relax when you saw Sam’s backside turned towards you after you saw him taking apart the display of long tubes that almost looked like the kind you would find on an old organ piano, you noticed why he was doing it, the shade was almost a dark, dirty gold collar—or something that the three of you had been looking for, brass.

“Hey.” You said, drawing his attention over to you.

Sam looked over his shoulder, taking a pause from attempting to yank off the tube from the display that he stood next to. “Hey. Where is it?” He asked, as if you had a clue.

“I don’t know.” You admitted, looking around again, but you still couldn’t see even the slightest sound or even shadow that you had hoped.

“Shouldn’t we see his clothes walking around?” Dean asked, heading back over to you after searching the entire place, but still coming up short. You opened your mouth to make a suggestion, but you found yourself pushing your backside against the wall when you saw knife coming in your direction, but the target was Dean. Your eyes widened when you saw the blade hit him by a few inches, landing right near the crook of his side, pinning him into place.

He reached up a hand to get the blade out, but another one came flying out from thin air, tearing through the sleeve of his shirt and keeping it there. You tried to make a move and help him out, but the creature didn’t seem to like that, because before you could even make another move, you heard the sounds of fabric tearing and a pressure that was too much, you couldn’t even rip the shirt that you were wearing from how much the knife was lodged into the wall.

“Sam!” Dean called out in a frustrated tone, becoming angry from the situation that he had found himself in.

You heard the brass pipe break off just seconds later and Sam get in position to take a swing at the monster that still wasn’t giving you a hint at where it was holding. As he made his way down the hall, you quickly called out his name when you saw another knife coming in his direction, but he managed to dodge it just by a hair of second.

“Guys, where is it?” Sam questioned, as if either of you were paying attention at the moment.

“I don’t know.” You hissed. “It’s too dark in here to see anything!”

That seemed to have struck an idea in Dean’s head; with the three arm that he had, you watched from the corner of your eye as he tried his hardest to reach for the nob of the smoke machine, pulling the lever down to admit more fog. Smart, you had thought to yourself. The man was still a solid object, and since fog would have to adjust around a body, there was a chance you could see a silhouette of the creature. And like you had thought, you caught it.

“Sam, behind you!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, hoping it wasn’t too late. “Behind you!”

But he managed to turn around just in time, stabbing the monster directly where he had aimed for, seconds later you heard the sounds of a whining growl that made it known that it had worked. Dean pulled the lever back up to stop the fog from coming back out and wasted no time in pulling out the knives that kept him in place. You used all the strength that you had and yanked on the handle, but it was too deep in for you to get it out.

But you still kept trying, that was until you felt another hand wrap around yours, pulling it out without much a problem. You flickered up your eyes to see that Dean had helped you, and when you realized that he was holding on for longer than needed, you felt a heat creep alongside your neck. Mumbling out a thank you, you pushed past him and headed for the other brothers that was now staring at something down at the ground. You squinted your eyes to see what it was.

After some of the smoke had cleared, you made out what had caught his attention; the bloody pipe laid down on the ground with a pile of clothes that the creature was wearing. But it wa a sign you were going to take that the monster was dead. Letting out a sigh of relief, you felt yourself finally relax after another job was done.

“I hate fun houses.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You couldn’t help yourself but laugh at that, shaking your head while your fingers traced over the hole in your shirt, not agreeing with a statement more than that one right about now.

\+ + +

Back again at the Roundhouse, you and the boys returned after making it back with the news that the case could be put to bed. Ellen seemed rather happy by the. closed case, offering the three of a round on the house, which you would gladly take after everything. You sat on one of the stools, next to Sam, you turned your head slightly when you heard the sound of a shotgun being cocked back. Two other hunters sat just a table from across from all of you, enjoying a beer while cleaning up their weapons. You looked back at the woman in front of you when you heard the sounds of glass hitting the wooden bar top.

“You kids did a hell of a job.” Ellen said, putting down the other drinks in front of the boys. You felt your lips stretch into a smile at the compliment. “Your parents would be proud.”

“Thanks.” Sam said, giving the woman a smile himself. She nodded her head and headed off, busying herself with something else.

As you pressed the bottle to your lips, you glanced over to see Jo, lingering at the oldest Winchester’s side, staring at you with a look you could read too well. A smile crept alongside your lips, nudging Sam in the side when he wasn’t getting the hint. He stared at you for a second, you nodded your head at the two. Jo gave him a smile, but he still wasn’t getting it as he returned it.

It took him another moment before, “Oh yeah, I’ve got to, uh,” Sam looked over at you, you nodded your head toward the table across the room when he felt himself becoming awkward at the situation. “We’ve got to go over…there. Right now.”

As you watched Sam head across the pool table, you looked over at Jo again with a smirk spreading across your face. “Dean’s the real sensitive one, don’t let him fool you.” You teased, giving her a playful wink as her lips stretched into a smile at your joke. ”Be gentle, okay?”

You grabbed your bottle and headed over towards Sam, who had been patiently waiting for you. You headed over next to him and leaned your backside against the table as you observed the tacky painting on the wall. A small silence had fallen over the two of you, almost seeing that it was going to stay that way, but when you turned your head to look over at Sam, it seemed that he had kept his focus on you the entire time.

“You know, I don’t get you and Dean.” Sam said, leaning himself against the pool table, pressing his palms against the velvety fabric. Your eyebrows furrowed together and gave him a look to continue on with what he was saying. But he shook his head, quietly laughing at your innocence of the situation.

You opened your mouth to question what he was talking about, but you turned your head when you heard a door swing open and close. There stood across the room was Ash with the file you had given him and something eletronic from all the exposed wire, and from the annoyed look on his face, it seemed that he wasn’t too pleased to see the three of you.

“Where have you guys been?” He asked. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“We’ve been working a job, Ash.” You said. But he gave you a confused expression, not sure what you were talking about. You quietly laughed hinting at what the closed case was about. “Clowns?”

“Clowns?” As repeated with confusion. “What the f—”

“You got something for us, Ash?” Dean asked, cutting off the man.

And it seemed that there was something else good to know. While you and the brothers were away, Ash had used the information you had given him to good use, setting up a system in which he could track the demon from the techniques John was once using, but adding his tech savvy touch. You and Sam headed back to the bar and watched as the other man put down the laptop that had no hard cover around it, you were beginning to wonder how the thing was even working as you hovered over his shoulder to see what he was doing.

“Did you find the demon?” Sam asked, taking a seat right across from you.

“It’s nowhere around, at least nowhere I can find.” Ash said as he began to punch a few keys on the board. “But if the fugly bastard raises its head, I’ll know. I mean, I’m on it like divine on dog dookie.”

“What do you mean?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask.

You watched as he turned the laptop around, showing the three of you what he had been working on. And you were quite surprised to see what you saw. The man knew his way around technology. “I mean any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off like a fire alarm.” He explained to the three of you.

Dean reached out a hand, hovering over the laptop. “You mind?” He asked the other man. But Ash tilted his head to the side, tapping his finger against the bartop, obviously hinting that he didn’t like people messing wit his stuff. Dean smiled, pulling his hand away after getting the message.

“What’s up, man?” Ash asked the oldest Winchester, you quietly laughed at the two.

“Ash, where did you learn how to do all of this?” Sam asked, a scoff of impression rolling out of mouth from the technology that sat right in front of him.

“M.I.T.,” Ash said, his voice dropping while he continued. “Before I got busted for fighting.”

“M.I.T?” Sam repeated the man. It seemed that he was surprised to see a person like Ash get into such an advanced and professional school.

“It’s a school in Boston.” He said, as if the youngest brother wasn’t getting it.

“Okay.” You said, pressing your hand against the bar top, you looked over at Ash. “Give us a call if you as soon as you know something?”

“Si. Si, compadre.” Ash said. You nodded your head, not even bothering to comment on that. But you found yourself staring at him for a moment when he took the beer bottle that Dean took one last sip before discarding it, taking a swing for himself. You shrugged it off, at least he wasn’t wasteful. You headed back towards the brother who were now heading over towards the front door.

“Hey, listen.” You heard Ellen call out for the three of you. “If you guys need a place to stay, I’ve got a couple beds out back.”

“Thanks, but no.” Dean said at her offer. “There’s something I got to finish.”

“Okay.” She said, nodding her head.

You made sure to say goodbye and thank everyone for what they had done, before quickly falling behind the brothers as they walked in sync towards the new junk car that would get back all of you back to Bobby’s hopefully by sundown. You needed at least a decent night’s sleep before you got him to to crack. Tomorrow you were going to make Dean conquer and let out his grief before it was too late.

\+ + +

Shoving your hands inside your short pockets again; you made your way through the trail of crushed cars that you were beginning to familiarize from the amount of times that you had been poking through to see how Dean was doing. You had given him some space since the three of you had gotten back last night, and even some time this morning to see if by some chance, he would just break down and admit that he wasn’t okay. But it all went as the same. He got up and headed out straight for the car, not speaking more than a handful of words to either you or Sam. Normally you would have checked up on him to see if he was okay, but not this time. You were going for it all,or just leaving it at what it was. You were getting tired of fighting.

Dean was crouched down on the ground, fixing up one of the back tires with something, you weren’t paying much attention as you walked passed him, heading towards the trunk. You pressed your palms against the warm metal and watched as his eyes slowly directed themselves at you. A familiar annoyance was slowly starting to spread across his face.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to bug you a thousand times. I’m just here to see how you are.” You said, your voice accidentally making it sound like you were snapping at him.

“Well, doesn’t matter what I say. She keeps coming back.” You heard Dean muttered underneath his breath. He got up to his feet and looked at you. “Like I told you and Sam before, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest as you began to look at him with a concerned expression. “Dean, I think I know how grief works pretty damn well. You sitting out here by yourself for hours at a time, snapping at Sam for what he wants to do with life, ignoring me. It’s not healthy.”

You watched as his lips parted slightly, getting ready to defend himself, but you pointed a finger up at him, knowing exactly the sarcastic response he was going to say to you, just like last time. But you weren’t in the mood to hear it today.

“Dean, I’m not trying to make you open up and tell me anything you don’t want. I understand that, I really do.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued. “But you need to do something, okay? You’re starting to get me worried. I can’t have you shut me out. I’m supposed to be your best friend,” You forced out a laugh when you felt yourself suddenly become overwhelmed with guilt. “And you can’t even let me do that right.”

“It’s not your problem, Y/N. I don’t need you or Sam breathing down my neck.” Dean said, flinching at his tone of voice. “I’m fine.”

“Stage one of grief is denial.”

“What?” Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowing at what you were saying to him. “Y/N, I don’t want to deal with your friggin’ psychological bull—”

“Ah, stage two is anger.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Leave me alone.” Dean muttered, dodging your looks as he headed over towards the tool box again. You watched as he turned his back to you and started fidgeting with different sorts of wrenches and bolts.

“You’re gonna have to face it, Dean. But I’ll let you get back to work if that’s what you want” You said, breaking the small silence that had fallen over the both of you for just a moment, walking over to where he was standing. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He didn’t say anything.

You let out a breath and began walking back to the house, following the trail that you had used to get back here. As you saw the front door begin to come into view, something in the distance began to catch your attention. It took you a few moments to realize that it was some sort of banging noise. You furrowed your eyebrows, not sure what was going on. It wasn’t the same noises that you had grown used towards, this one was different. You turned around and headed back, having a feeling of where it was coming from.

As you heard the banging become louder, you caught the sight of him; Dean was finally feeling something. You watched as he violently swung down at the trunk of the Impala again, again and again until there were visible marks left in the metal. After a handful more, he dropped the iron rod to the ground and let out a rhythm of deep, heavy breaths. You and him made eye contact after the you snuck your way forward and were now standing next to the passenger’s side.

You knew he wasn’t the sentimental type; always brushing off the moments with sarcastic mumbled or pushing someone away when they wanted to get just a bit close. But you didn’t care. His father just died a week ago, you knew he needed one.

Taking a step forward, you quickly swung your arms around his neck and stood on your toes so you could reach. Pulling him into a hug, you waited for the moment that he was going to push you away and complain that you were being too much. But he didn’t. You felt his arms slowly wrap around your waist and pull you forward, enjoying the embrace that he hadn’t felt in a long time.


	3. Bloodlust.

“Ow! Watch where you’re going!” You hissed underneath your breath as you stumbled slightly, fearing that you were going to fall face first into the gravel. But you felt a hand wrap around your hand and another resting on your backside, pulling you back up, and saving you from tasting rocks. You let out a breath of annoyance and adjusted the blindfold that was wrapped around your eyes, hoping to let some morning light through and a peek at where you were going, but you quickly felt it being tugged downwards again when you tried to lift it a single inch.

“Hey, no peeking. I told you I wanted it to be a surprise.” Dean said, hearing the excitement in his voice made a smile spread across your face. He had been an awfully chipper mood since this morning, acting like a small child that wanted to show you an art project that he had been working on for hours. You allowed him to even cut off your sight to see what had been getting him so worked up with giddiness. He had been acting so much better these past few days, you weren’t going to to ruin it, and you were beginning to grow curious.

You and Dean walked for another minute until he stopped you, mumbling that it was just going to be a moment before you could find out what it was that he was going to show you. Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited a few moments until you heard footsteps approaching you again, and a few seconds later, the blinding sunlight that you hadn’t grown used towards made your hands up to block out the rays. You blinked a few times after you finally adjusted, dropping your hands down, you saw what Dean had been working so hard on. A grin slowly began to creep alongside your lips when you saw it.

“Oh my, God. She’s back!” You couldn’t help yourself but squeal out in delight. Just seeing the Impala back in mint condition, back at how you first remembered the car, made you grow with delight. You headed over towards the car, running your fingers over the new paint job as you observed the interior. There were no traces left anywhere that you could see it was as if the crash had never happened. “Dean, this is amazing.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let her just rust out here.” He headed over towards you and overlooked his hard work once more. You could see the accomplishment slowly coming back into his facial features as a small smile spread across his face. “And I have to admit, I couldn’t have done it while you were breathing down my neck and checking up on me every five minutes.”

You playfully shoved him and shook your head, glad that he could at least joke a bit about the situation, seeming a bit better than he was a few days ago. “Since we have Baby back and you seem to be getting an itch to ride her, I have some good news, too.” You said. “I was cruising the internet last night and I found us a possible case. How do you feel about checking out a few sketchy cow mutilations and beheadings? You know, satanic stuff to get us all back on our feet.”

“Sounds good to me.” Dean said, eyeing over the car again. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a giggle as he observed his car with more attention than he should have, sometimes you wondered if he gave that thing more attention than when he saw a woman he thought was pretty.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes at how he was acting. You headed back to the house to wake up Sam, knowing that all of you had a lot of packing to do before it was back on the road again. And you couldn’t wait.

\+ + +

There was something about today that felt right; the front windows of the Impala were rolled down, Dean’s rock music was at full blast, the bass echoing in your chest as you felt the sunshine beating down on your face. You sat in the backseat with attention focused on the brothers that sat in front of you, Dean behind the wheel and Sam was resting himself in the passenger side, just how everything should be. You had your boys, the open road at your fingertips and a case that need solving. It seemed that everything was going back to normal.

“Whoo!” Dean shouted out, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced over his brother to share the good mood. “Listen to her purr. You ever heard anything so sweet?”

“If you two want to get a room, just let me and Y/N know, Dean.” Sam said, finding his brother’s chipper attitude towards the car nothing more than amusing.

“Oh, don’t listen to him, Baby.” Dean said to it, taking a hand away from the wheel and rubbing the dashboard. You couldn’t help yourself but laugh at how he was acting. “They don’t understand us.”

“You’re in a good mood.” Sam noted, finding the difference in his brother.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “No reason.”

“I got my car, I got a case.” Dean said. “Things are looking up.”

“Wow.” You mumbled, leaning over so you were now resting yourself on the front seat. “You hear of a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you’re Mr. Sunshine.”

Dean chuckled at your comment, you felt a smile tug at the ends of your lips. “How far to Red Lodge?”

“Uh, about another three hundred miles.” You said, calculating the total in your head from where you currently were.

“Good.”

Dean pressed his foot against the gas petal, sending the car faster down the back road that had nobody around. The engine roared to life again as you felt yourself speeding down the blacktop, you turned your head and watch as the woods around you became nothing but a blur as the warm air from outside ran through your hair and sent goosebumps running down your skin.

\+ + +

“The murder investigation is ongoing,” The sheriff, that was sporting a rather interesting moustache, said to the three of you. While he sat behind his desk and the brothers sat in the available chairs, you shifted around in your spot, beginning to regret the decision of wearing heels if you knew you were going to be standing during this interview. “And that’s all that I can share with the press at this time.”

“We understand that, but just for the record,” Sam said, running his pen down the notepad that he had jotted down the information about the case he previously learned. “You found the first head last week, correct?”

“Mm-hmm.” The sheriff said, nodding his head.

“And the other, a Christina Flanagan—”

“That was two days ago.” Sam was cut off the sheriff. As he opened his mouth to continue, a knock on the door caused all heads to turn to see his assistant tapping her finger against her watch, reminding him of an important conference he needed to attend. He smiled and waved her off, leaving the four of you alone again. “Sorry, kids, time’s up. We’re done here.”

“One more question.” You said, stopping him from getting out of his chair. He let out a sigh, dropping himself back into his chair, wondering what you were going to say. “What about the cattle?”

“Excuse me?’ He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at your question. You

“You know, the cows found dead, split opened, drained—over a dozen cases.” You said, raising your brow to see if he knew what you were talking about.

“What about them?” He questioned.

“So, you don’t think there’s a connection?” Sam curiously asked.

“Connection with…” The sheriff trailed off, throwing his hands up in confusion.

“First cow mutilations, now two murders?” You asked, shrugging your shoulders, giving him hints at what you were suspecting. But he just stared at you. “Kind of sounds like ritual stuff.”

“You know,” Dean piped in, leading the man on with more clues. “Like satanic cult ritual stuff.”

But when the sheriff got what all of you were getting at, his response wasn’t what you were expecting to hear. He slowly started to laugh as all of this was just a joke that was being pulled on him, wagging a finger around as he was almost roaring with chuckles. You and the brothers stared at the man, not finding his laughter amusing at all. And when he caught sight of your blank expressions, he finally stopped.

“You’re not kidding?”

“No, sir.”

The sheriff dropped his hand towards the desk and rolled his eyes at your ignorance of the situation that neither of you seemed to investigate just a little bit further. “Those cows aren’t being mutilated. You want to know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because there’s no such thing as cattle mutilations.” The sheriff said in a matter-of-fact voice, you pressed your notepad to your lips when he explained. “Cow drops, leave it in the sun, and within forty-eight hours the bloat will split open so clean it’s just about surgical.” His tone changed into a slow paced, sarcastic one, as if all of you were dumb. “The bodily fluids fall down to the ground, gets soaked up, ‘cause that’s what gravity does.” You scrunch your nose at the details while Sam tugged at the collar of shirt in discomfort. “But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you worked for?”

Dean cleared his throat, trying to remember what he cd up with. “World Weekly News.”

“Weekly World News.”

“World—World Weekly.”

“I’m new.”

You closed your eyes and shook your head in disappointment, realizing the brothers had blown the cover. You bit your bottom lip when you caught sight of the cop’s pissed off glare.

“Get out of my office.” He said in a low, threatening tone. Nodding your head, you didn’t waste another moment, you turned away and headed for the door, not even waiting for the brothers as they awkwardly excused themselves out and trailed behind you.

\+ + +

“You two are so stupid. It hasn’t been that long since we’ve went under.” You hissed underneath your breath, snatching the white lab coat from Dean’s hand. On the other side of town, the three of you were now at the county hospital, heading down to the coroner’s office to take a look at the latest victim to see if this was still the case that need the special touch. You slipped on the coat and brushed your hair out the way, continuing down the hallway with your heels clicking loudly, matching the anger that was boiling in your chest.

Following the numbers, you counted down as you heard Dean try to defend himself, jogging a bit so he could catch up with your pace. “It would have gone fine if Sammy stuck with the name that I chose.” Dean said, looking over his shoulder to give his brother a dirty glare. You rolled your eyes when you caught sight of the youngest Winchester opening his mouth to make a snarky remark. You pulled up a hand to keep an argument from starting up when the room came into view.

“Both of you shut up and follow my lead.” You muttered, giving them a stern look as opened up the door and stepping inside. You looked around the room before making eye contact with a man that was sitting behind the desk, he smiled when he caught sight of you. Smiling back, you dropped your attention toward his name tag before looking back at him. “John!” You said in a happy tone, walking up to him.

“Jeff.” He corrected you, but the look on his face seemed that he didn’t mind as he got up from his chair and headed around the desk to see what you were here for.

“Jeff, I knew that.” You mumbled, giving him a playful wink to cover up your mistake. “Dr. Dorkin needs to see you in his office right away.

“But Dr. Dorkin is on vacation.” Jeff said, you felt your eyes widened at the news.

“He’s back,” You stuttered out, but catching yourself as you weaved out a lie. Suddenly you pretend to get angry at the man to make it seem believable. The panicked expression that came across his face almost made you break character from the urge to laugh. “And he’s pissed, and he’s screaming for you. So, if I were you I would—" You whistled for effect, pointing your finger over your shoulder and at the door for him to skedaddle.

“Okay.” He mumbled, bolting for it as he soon disappeared from sight, Sam closed the door behind him before him and his brother headed up towards you. Dean grabbed a pair of disposable rubber gloves for himself before throwing a pair at you and Sam to wear.

“Hey, those satanist in Florida, they marked their victims, didn’t they?” Dean asked while you walked over towards the small compartments where all the dead bodies were being kept.

“Yeah, reverse pentacles on the forehead.” You said, snapping the gloves on your hands.

“So much f’ed up crap happens in Florida.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You rolled your eyes at his comment and headed over towards Sam, who was ready to take a look at the body, but he was waiting on the both of you.

You stood in the middle of the brothers as you nodded your head for Sam to open up the freezer door, Dean put on his gloves while the door opened up and the latest victim came rolling out. A near grossed out groan escaped your throat when you realized you were a few inches from her severed head that was sitting in a styrofoam cooler. You looked over at the boys, wondering who was going to do the dreaded task of seeing what was inside.

“All right. Open it.” Dean said to his brother, snapping on the last glove.

“You open it.” Sam argued, his face scrunching up in disgust. 

“Wuss.” The other brother muttered underneath his breath, grabbing the cooler and bring it over towards the examination table. You and Sam followed behind as he turned it around and opened up the top, revealing the severed head, but a blank forehead. “Well, no pentagram.”

“Wow.” You muttered, swallowing slightly. The sight of the victim, her eyes opened up wide, made your stomach feel queasy. “Poor girl.”

“Maybe we should, uh, look in her mouth, see if this whacko stuffed anything down her throat, you know,” Dean suggested. You looked over at him, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but it dropped when you realized what he was getting at. “Kind of like the moth in ‘The Silence of the Lambs.’”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” Sam said, turning around the cooler so the head was now staring at the other brother for just a moment.

Dean pushed the severed head back over, shaking his head. “No, you go ahead.”

“What?” Sam asked, his voice rising slightly.

“‘Put the lotion in the basket.’” Dean tried his best impression the infamous fictional serial killer Buffalo Bill, you shook your head at his terrible way of handling the case.

“That is the last time I watch a movie with you before we start a new hunt.” You muttered.

“Right, yeah, I’m the wuss, huh?” Sam retorted, giving his brother a glare.

“Whatever.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath, still continuing to act immature. But neither you or him were up for the task. You stared at the other brother, waiting for him to start the process, nodding your head towards the cooler when he looked at you.

Sam let out a sigh when he realized that he really was the one to do the task when neither of you volunteered. He cleared his throat and got himself ready for the job. A near dry heave threatened to escape your throat as you watched his fingers went down and pried open her mouth, taking a deep a peek around where you wouldn’t dare to bother look.

“Y/N, get me a bucket.” Sam said, his face scrunching up with disgust as his finger went farther down her throat.

“Find something?” Dean asked, leaning in to take a closer look at the victim’s head.

“No, I’m gonna puke.”

Dean turned his head and gave his brother an annoyed glare at how squeamish he was becoming. You rolled your eyes and looked back at the victim’s mouth for a second, but it was enough time to catch something that seemed off about you. Either she has a bad case of gum decay or she was hiding something from all of you.

“Hey, lift up her lip again. "You said, pointing your finger to her upper lip.

"What?” Sam asked, looking over at you with the same glare he gave to his brother. “You want me to throw up.”

“I think I saw something, you know what—Get outta my way, big baby.” You muttered, shoving the larger man out of the way by pushing your hip against his body. You took a deep breath before moving her upper lip up to see what you saw. Slowly, the disgust became more of curiosity at what you noticed. “Wait a minute, is that a hole?”

You couldn’t help yourself but press down on the gums, but taken back by what happened next, something slender and pearly white popped out–a tooth of some sort. You looked over your shoulder to see what the brothers to see what they thought of your discovery. They seemed just as taken back as you were.

“It’s a tooth.” Sam said, leaning in slightly to see what it was. You took another close look, your fingertip running down the tip, but winced and pulled back when you felt it pierce through the rubber glove and nearly nick your skin. When you let pressure go from the gums, it bounced back up to its hiding spot. You took a step back in realization of what you had touched.

“Guys,” You said, “It’s a fang.”

“A retractable set of vampire fangs.” Dean mumbled to himself. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Well, this changes things.” Sam said, you looked over at him with an annoyed expression. If there was one, there had to be at least a dozen more where that came from. It seemed that this case wasn’t about Satan worship anymore, more like creatures of the night. The last time you had contact with one, you nearly got turned one into yourself. The joy to work on this case was an all time low from what it originally was.

“You think?” You asked in a sarcastic voice, your tone matching your mood.

\+ + +

Night had fallen when the three of you pulled up towards the only bar in town; you sat in the backseat as the Impala drove up towards the front for a moment, watching as a few people headed in and out, wondering if those people could be the rest of the vampires you were looking for. Besides the bloodlust they couldn’t control, you knew that another side effect was a serious thirst for booze. And what place where would find a nest of vampires? A bar, of course. You and the brothers looked at one another for a few seconds before Dean pressed his foot on the gas, looking for a parking spot before taking a peek inside the place.

You wandered through the opening of the bar, smiling politely at someone who was stepping out that held open the door before you slipped your way through. You looked over the scene of people as you trailed behind the brothers, all of you heading up towards the front where you saw a man working, placing down a cup of beer for a woman before she went trailing off back towards her table of friends. You leaned yourself against the bar top as you heard footsteps coming from behind you.

“How’s it going?” Dean asked the bartender, trying to make small talk before going in with what he wanted to learn.

“Living the dream.” He replied with not so much enthusiasm. “What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

You glanced over your shoulder, looking at the brothers from the corner of your eye before you put your attention back on the bartender, feeling the money slip between your fingertips. “So, we’re looking for some people.” You said, placing your hands up on the bar, the fifty hidden between your clenched fingertips.

“Sure. It’s hard to be lonely.” The bartender dodged your subtle hints of a question with a joke, you couldn’t help yourself but smile at his bad humor.

“Yeah, but, um, that’s not what I meant.” You mumbled, lifting up your hand to reveal the fifty dollar bill that you had been hiding from him. He looked at the money for a moment before back at you, with a nod of the head, you watched as he snatched it and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Great. So, these people would’ve moved here about six months ago,” Sam started off, listing off the typical behavior of a vampire that could make them look more like the unwanted customer from their actions, definitely someone a bartender would remember. “Probably pretty rowdy, like to drink.”

“Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night.” Dean added, raising his brows before grabbing his beer and taking a sip. As the conversation continued, you felt your attention being drawn somewhere else.

You couldn’t help yourself but glance back over your shoulder when a strange feeling began to set in your mind, it felt like someone was eavesdropping on your conversation. You caught sight of a man in the way back, pretending to stare off into space, but you noticed a lit cigarette just hovering in his hand, like he was taken back by what someone had said. You pretended to flip your hair over your other shoulder to give you an excuse to take a closer examination of the man look before looking back over at the bartender as he continued talking.

“Barker Farms got leased out a couple months ago, real winners.” The bartender explained. “They’ve been here a lot—rowdy, noisy. I had to eighty-six them once or twice.”

You looked over at the brothers, beginning to feel that this was the kind of case that needed your attention. You forced yourself to take a sip of the beer even though you weren’t in the mood to drink, you took it as an opportunity to see if the fellow man was still interested in your conversation. When you looked over, he wasn’t there anymore, a five was left on the table with a burning cigarette lying in the ashtray. You turned back around towards the bar top and placed down your beer bottle, giving the man a smile and thanking him for his help before heading out, beginning to have a feeling you weren’t going to be walking home alone.

You walked out of the bar and into the cold, summer night, scanning the area as you walked down the steps, the boys following behind in your steps. When he wasn’t around, you decided to go for a second plan of action, to be careful. Without a warning, in the change of plans, you grabbed Dean by the sleeve jacket and pulled him backwards, giving him a defeated sigh, acting as if you were helpless and defeated from the news that you had heard.

“We’re never gonna find them.” You said, your voice near croaking as you quickly went in for the kill to make this seem more believable. You lean forward and wrapping your arms around his neck, cradling your head in his shoulder, you turned it slightly so you could whisper in his ear what you were suspecting. “I think we have a shadow.”

You pulled away and gave him a serious look, happy to know that your back was turned and away from wherever the man was hiding. Dean continued with the act, looking over at his brother while nodding his head for the other direction of the alley. “Why don’t you take her home? We’ll continue this tomorrow.” He said, pushing you slightly to the other brother. With a another nod of the head, all of you went off in the opposite direction.

You and Sam headed down the alley while the oldest one went down the other direction, knowing that it only lead in the middle. As you stepped down the dark path, and turned the corner, you waited a few seconds before the sounds of footsteps began to follow behind like you had suspected. You pressed your backside against the brick wall, tightening the grip on the knife, waiting for the prey to fall into the trap.

\+ + +

You weren’t the one to shoot first and ask questions later; you always made sure to stay put and waited until a plan was devised to see what the next plan of action was, but tonight you felt something different. The handle of the knife you carried felt heavy as you heard footsteps beginning to come closer towards the corner that you and Sam turned from, giving the three of you at least some privacy if this man didn’t back off. But that didn’t seem like it was going to happen when you heard the footsteps stop for a moment before the sidewalk scraped underneath the soles of his shoes as he turned around for a moment. Holding your breath to make yourself quiet, you leaned out slightly to see if he was still there. And to your dismay, he was.

But you were quick to notice that his back was turned to you, a blind spot you could use to sneak up on the man to see why he was following the three of you. Sam seemed to be quick on what you were trying to do, noticing the look in your eye as you took a step forward, just as he tried to grab ahold the sleeve of your jacket, you slipped through his fingertips. For such a small girl compared to him, you sure were beginning to become faster. He was sure starting to regret that lesson about teaching you about making that your advantage.

You made your move before it was too late; you pushed the man up against the brick wall, shoving the knife against his throat, pinning him in place for the moment before you saw Sam come in and shove the stranger roughly when he tried to push you away. Dean had quickly managed to find out what was going on, you watched as he headed over to you, hovering of your body, just in case the stranger was an actual threat. With the man in place, you couldn’t help yourself but wonder if he was one of the vampires that you were looking for.

“Smile.” You instructed at the man.

“What?” He asked, taken aback by the request.

“Show us those pearly whites.” You told him again, growing more irritated as time went on.

“For the love of—You want to stick that thing someplace else? I’m not a vampire.” He said, you furrowed your eyebrows at him. But you still wouldn’t budge. You saw as his lips stretched into a smirk at what he had said. “Yeah, that’s right. I heard you guys in there.”

“What do you know about vampires?” Sam questioned, knowing these kind of monsters wasn’t something a hunter would have come across frequently.

“How to kill them.” He answered. You watched as his eyes went over toward you before they dropped towards the blade that you still had towards his throat. “Now, seriously, sweetheart, that knife’s making me itch.”

You just glared at him, becoming tempted to put more pressure on him from the pet name alone. His gaze went over towards Sam, as if the youngest Winchester had lost focus or seemed to believe that he wasn’t what he was saying. He leaned his shoulder off the wall for just a second, but Sam was quick to roughly shove him back into place to make his point that none of you were fooling around.

“Whoa. Easy there, Chachi.” He mumbled, eyeing the youngest brother for a moment. He started to raise up his hands ever so slowly, making it known that he was going to show the three of you that he wasn’t a monster. You watched as his fingers pulled on his top lip, showing that he had nothing more than a human set of teeth. “See? Fangless.” But you kept your guard up, not breaking your stance. He gave you a look when you wouldn’t move your knife away from his throat. “Happy?”

You weren’t, but you made yourself pull away when you felt Dean make a loose grip on your wrist when even Sam backed up after the man made himself know that he wasn’t a threat. You finally dropped the knife towards your side, sucking in a deep breath as you took a step back to give him some room. You returned his glares when he stared at you for a few moments.

“Now, who the hell are you?”

\+ + +

After the three of the i told you who you were, the man introduced himself as a fellow hunter named Gordon Walker, as you helped him walk back towards his car that seemed to be out in the middle of nowhere. You shoved your hands inside your pockets as you trailed behind, watching Gordon with a close eye, there was something about this man that made you feel like there was something off about him. And by the looks that you and him were passing whenever the other men weren’t looking, you had a suspicion he felt the same way about you. Maybe you shouldn’t have acted the way that you did, jumping the gun so quickly and nearly putting you all at risk for getting someone hurt.

“Sam and Dean Winchester.” Gordon says, repeating their names as he leans over in his backseat to pull out something. You felt your eyes widen at the selection of weapons he has hidden away in the small compartment of his car, making the hiding spot in the trunk of the Impala seem like a dingy little magic trick that anyone could do. “I can’t believe it. You know, I met your old man once—hell of a guy, great hunter.” But you heard his tone change into a softer one when he continued speaking about the man. “I heard he passed. I’m sorry.”

The brothers nodded their heads, mumbling a thank you for his sympathy. “It’s big shoes, but from what I hear, you guys fill them— great trackers, good in a type spot.” As Gordon kept on talking about the Winchester, you felt the bad feeling about him grow a little bit more.

“You seem to know a lot about their family.” You couldn’t help yourself but say.

“Word travels fast.” Gordon says, brushing off your suspicion with a shrug and smile that’s suppose to win you over. “You know how hunters talk.”

“No, we don’t.” Dean said. He looked over at you and his brother, seeming to grow with the same amount of suspicion about this guy as you were feeling from the rare knowledge that neither one of them bragged about. But it seemed that someone was spreading the good word about the Winchesters.

“I guess there’s a lot your dad never told you, huh?” Gordon asked. You crossed your arms over your chest while the oldest brother looked at him for a few moments, not sure how to respond to that kind of question.

“So, um,” Sam spoke up, breaking the small silence that had fallen over you that was threatening to become awkward. “So, those two vampires, they were yours, huh?”

“Yup.” Gordon answered. “Been here two weeks.”

“Did you check out that barker farm?” Dean asked, remembering the land that the bartender told the three of you about earlier in the night before all of this happened.

“It’s a bust. A bunch of hippie freaks.” Gordon said. “Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.”

“Where’s the nest, then?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Gordon smiled to himself, pushing back his secret compartment as you heard it click back into place after it disappeared from sight. “I got this one covered. Look, don’t get me wrong. It’s a pleasure meeting you fellas,” He said, shrugging his shoulders as he continued talking. “But I’ve been on this thing for over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way back up here. I’ll finish it.”

“We could help.” Dean suggested.

“Thanks, but, uh, I’m kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.” Gordon said. Well, you couldn’t help but think he was the kind of man that wouldn’t play well with others or took kind a helping hand. You might have been comfortable with leaving this one to the other man, Dean didn’t seem so pleased with that plan of action.

“Oh, man, I’ve been itching for a hunt.” Dean said, trying to get the other man on board.

“Sorry.” Gordon mumbled, not breaking so easy. “But uh, hey, I hear there’s a chupacabra two states over. Go ahead and knock yourselves out.” You watch as the man opened up the car door and slid himself into the driver’s side, slamming it. He peeked his head out and smiled at the brothers. “It was real good meeting you, though. I’ll buy you a drink on the flipside.” And with the sounds of the engine turning on, Gordon pressed his foot on the gas and drove off, leaving the three of you to watch as the car turned into nothing more than a small object in the distance.

\+ + +

Wherever there was trouble, it seemed that the Winchesters knew where to find it. And that place was an abandoned looking warehouse just outside out of town where there was suspicious activity that seemed to be going around Dean had explained when he pulled away from the route towards the motel and on towards another path. But you knew that he was doing, he was following the trail of Gordon Walker, wondering what the man was made of.

You leaned yourself against the trunk of the Impala, hearing the distant sounds of a dog barking and faint footsteps of wood creaking from above you. It was probably one of the brothers taking a quick scan of the place. You had decided to stay behind, not in the mood to deal with a vampire or Gordon the friendly hunter, both in which still made a bad feeling sit in the pit of your stomach from just the thought when it crosses your mind. But you still are prepared if something were to decide and pull a sneak attack on you as you cautiously look around the area whenever something off crosses your hearing. For now, everything remains calm.

You make patterns in the dirt path with the heel of your shoe, soon becoming bored from the lack of attention. Maybe you should have tagged along the quick peek around the place, there probably really was nothing around here. You begin to wonder what would make a vampire venture out this far out of town. There should have been nobody here except for a security guard—unless, a near chuckle escapes your throat at the idea of one of these monsters holding down a job, but what really comes out is a sharp gasp at what you saw in the distance, pressing a hand against your lips at the sight.

It seems that the brothers had been through a hell of a fight, at least for Dean from what you can make out as they pass over one of the streetlamps, as Gordon walks with them. He seems in a rather chipper mood; a grin hanging from his lips as he talks about something, from the distance, you aren’t sure. But as they get closer, you hear familiar words like vampire and kill. You lips stretch into a frown and make your way towards the men, flinching when you catch sight of the blood splatter that cover Dean’s face and neck that seems worse from up close.

“What the hell happened?” Your tone of voice becomes rushed out, not waiting for a response before you are throwing more questions at him. “Are you hurt?”

The chuckle that comes from Dean throws you off, he looks more like he had gotten some girl’s number than whatever happened back there. “Relax, Y/N. I’m fine,” He says, looking over at Gordon as his lips stretch into a smirk, both men acting like they were sharing an inside joke with one another that neither or you Sam get. “But that vamp isn’t.”

You can’t help yourself but give the youngest brother a confused look as you watch the other pair of men wander into the distance. It seems that the hunters had grown a brotherly type of friendship while you were away, acting as if they had known one another for the longest time. Sam stepped next to you and shoved his hands inside his jacket pockets, lost for words as you were.

\+ + +

The handful of other conversations that are going on throughout the bar are muffled out from the chuckles and clinking of glasses against the table. You force yourself to take a sip of the growing lukewarm beer that sits in a cup, the pitcher that the waitress brought over just twenty minutes ago was beginning to grow lower. You draw your eyes over towards Sam that is sitting vertical of you, his face is blank of emotions, all expect boredom.

Dean, on the other hand, seems to be having the time of his life. He lets out another chuckle while pressing the cup to his lips, Gordon seems to be feeling the second draft of beer and third shot of some rusty colored liquor the waitress keeps bringing over whenever she sees an empty glass of any sort. She must he thinking this will be her lucky night to score a big tip. You make sure of it, knowing that she deserves at least a decent one after dealing with these two idiots.

Everything seemed to have been going fine; you busied yourself with making up scenarios in your head about the people around you. It was something that you would do to pass the time and keep yourself from ruining the moment. Dean needed to have just a little fun from everything that happened, even if you and Sam have to suffer for a little while. It was better in the long run than have to spend hours in a car with a moody man.

As you leaned your elbows on the table with your head cradling in your palms, you were eyeing the couple from the other side of the room that seemed to be getting into a heated debate. You could tell it wasn’t anything serious from the smile that tugged at the end of the girl’s lips and the fire in her eyes, they both seemed happy, having that balance in a relationship where they could probably spend an hour arguing about something but instantly make up five minutes later after agreeing that takeout was a good idea. As you began to wonder what they were talking about, your attention was turned toward the man that was sitting on your left.

A frown threatens to stretch across your lips when you caught sight of the same arrogant grin on his own. Your mouth was demanding you to say snarky comment, but you kept quiet, knowing that it would be immature. All of you were grown adults here, you made yourself believe that even he was acting like one.

Gordon leaned over slightly when Dean was distracting himself with another long gulp of beer, and the other brother seemed to have fazed himself out from everything, all together. “Drink up, sweetheart,” He says, you give him a glare. “I’m sure a girl like you needs it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, your tone low enough just for the two of you to hear.

He just shrugs his shoulders, looking back over at the oldest brother, acting as if your small conversation never happened as the waitress come strolling on back, two shot glasses are filled up and ready to be tossed back as if they were water. You watch as Dean shifts around in his chair to cover this round, but Gordon stops him, slipping out a bill.

“No, no, I got it.” Gordon says, stopping the man.

“Come on.” Dean said, growing a smile when he realized that neither of you had pitched in during the time here.

“I insist.” Gordon argues, wagging a finger. He places the ten on the woman’s tray and give her a sweet smile. “Thank you, sweetie.” You see victorious smile spread across her face, and with the nod of a head, she was gone, making the hunter conversations start in again. Gordon lets out a chuckle and holds up his shot glass for him and Dean to clink together. “Another one bites the dust.”

“That’s right.” Dean agrees, leaving over in his seat as both of the men cheers at the success of tonight’s hunt. You bite the inside of your cheek as they toss their heads back and swallow the shot in one sip, letting out an obnoxious sigh before slamming the glass down.

Gordon opens his mouth again to say something, he manages to repeat the oldest Winchester’s name before a childlike laughter comes rolling out from his throat, seeming that the liquor had hit him harder than he could handle. “You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.” He compliments the other man on the grizzly kill, yet again.

You can’t help yourself but roll your eyes and lean yourself back in the wooden chair, not exactly thrilled to be hearing the story for the third time in just the last hour. You didn’t know if he was doing it to annoy you or if he really was impressed by Dean beheading a vampire with an industrial saw. You were more taken back by the vivid image that played over in your head when they brought it back up. As Dean mumbled a thank you while a smile spread across his face, the other man continued on.

“That was beautiful, absolutely beautiful.” Gordon said, as if he had seen some sort of masterpiece. You were beginning to wonder if there was something off about this man. Nobody should be that impressed about a kill, but these two were.

“Yep.” Dean mumbled, reaching over and grabbed his glass of beer. As he presses it towards his lips, he catches sight of you and Sam, still not seeming as interested as he was. “You all right, Sammy? Or are you and Y/N PMSing?”

“Fuck off.” You hiss underneath your breath, hating that you were a woman with comments like that he would say to get you going. But you swallow your anger, rolling your eyes again.  
“Yeah, fine.” Sam mutters, the first thing he said all night.

“Lighten up a little, Sammy.” Gordon tires to slip in the youngest man’s nickname, but you throw him a glare in irritation.

“They’re the only ones that get to call me that.” Sam says, nodding his head towards his brother and you. Gordon throws his hands up slightly in a defeated motion.

“Okay. No offense meant.” Gordon said. “Just celebrating a little—job well done.”

“Right. Well, uh,” Sam said, pretending to think for a moment before letting out a comment slip from his mouth. “Well, um, decapitations aren’t my idea of a good time, I guess.”

“Oh, come on, man. It’s not like it was human.” Gordon said, a smirk spreading across his lips, finding humor in the situation. “You got to have a little more fun with your job.”

“See,that’s what I’ve been trying to tell them.” Dean said, snapping his fingers and pointing one at him then turning it over on his brother. “You guys could learn a thing or two from this guy.”

You stare at Dean for a few moments, he keeps quiet, debating with himself if he want to say something but the look that you give him sends his glass right back up toward his lips. Sam turns his head back and forth between the men, just as taken back as you were from what his brother had said. But he settles himself with a sarcastic remark.

“Yeah, I bet I could. Look,” Sam puts both hands on either side of the chair and lifts himself up, now towering over the three of you. “I’m not gonna bring you guys down. I’m just gonna go back to the motel.”

“You sure?” Dean asked, rubbing his hands over his face before glancing over at his brother who just nodded his head and headed over the door. “Sammy,” You watched as Dean shoved his hands inside his pocket. “Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you later, alright?” He tossed the younger man the keys, who had grabbed them with no effort at all.

Sam didn’t say anything to his brother,he looked over at you. “You coming, Y/N?”

You were debating with yourself if you should leave the fellow hunters to enjoy their drinks and what not, but you don’t feel comfortable leaving Dean alone with the man. So, you grab your drink and hover it over your lips. “Nah, I still have a lot to learn about having. Right, sweetheart?” You mock the man, giving him a sarcastic smile. “And besides,” You look over your shoulder. “I need to make sure these two don’t drink themselves too stupid. I’ll call you if the scene gets too boring.

Dean throws you an annoyed look when you weren’t paying attention and Sam nods his head, looking at the other hunter one more time before turning around and heading for the door, leaving the three of you alone. Looking over your shoulder, you see there is an open spot at the bar that seems more comfortable than this. So, you mumble an excuse and leave them alone, but just an earshot away, never taking up the moment on eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Something I said?” Gordo asks while you walk away.

“No, no. They just get that way, sometimes.” Dean mumbled, shaking his head. He puts his glass back down towards the table before grabbing the empty shot glass. “Tell you what, match quarters for the next round.”

With the slamming of the glass, you take our seat on the bar stool and place a finger up, catching the attention of a bartender. And for the rest of the time there, you find yourself in a conversation with them more interesting the one that Dean and Gordon’s having.

\+ + +

Dean Winchester’s Point of View:

“So I picked up this crossbow, and I hit that ugly sucker—silver-tip arrow right in his heart.” Dean sits at the edge of his chair, retelling a memory from his hunting days during his teens. His hands move around slightly as he continues telling the story. Gordon smiles at the details, making the man feel like he knows what he’s talking about, something that he hasn’t quite felt before with someone almost his age.

“Sammy’s waiting in the car, and me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I’m sitting there, and I’m looking into the fire, and I’m thinking to myself, ‘I’m sixteen years old. Kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates. I’m seeing things they’ll never even know, never even dream of.’” Admitting that memory out loud, it was the first time that he had spoken it towards anyone. “So right then, I just sort of—”

“Embraced the life?”

Dean nodded his head, “Yeah.” He wouldn’t admit this to you or his brother, but he was beginning to feel some sort of familiarity with the man, like they had deeper reasons for doing this. But he ignored to give the thought anymore attention, he grabbed his cup and leaned back in his seat. “How’d you get started?”

“First time I saw a vampire, I was barely eighteen. Home alone with my sister. I hear the window break in her room. I grabbed my dad’s gun, run in, try to get it off her. It was too late.” Gordon explained his story for the reason why he started hunting. Dean had a feeling it didn’t end well, it never does. “So I shoot the damn thing, which, of course, is about as useful as snapping it with a rubber band.” Both men smirk at the joke before continuing the story.

“It rushes me, picks me up, flings me across the room and knocks me out cold. When I wake up, the vampire’s gone,” Gordon trails off for a moment. “My sister’s gone.”

“And then?” Dean can’t help himself but ask, intrigued by the story.

“Then,” Gordon falls off for another amount of time before speaking back up. “Try explaining that one to your family. So I left home, and then I bummed around looking for information—how you track them, how to kill them. And I found that fang. It was my first kill.”

“Sorry about your sister.” Dean said with sincinaty, raising his glass slightly before taking a sip.

“Yeah. She was beautiful. I can still see her, you know, the way she was.” Gordon admitted, his gaze slowly lingering down towards the table. He takes a sip himself and lets out a loud sigh, whatever emotions that he had before suddenly seem gone, his nonchalant behavior snapping back. “But, hey, that was a long time ago. I mean—your dad, it’s gotta be rough.”

Dean’s eyes wandered around the place a bit,not happy that the topic of conversation had began to turn around his father that had passed away almost two weeks ago now. He tried not to think about it if he could. “Yeah.” He mumbled, pulling at his ear for a moment. He normally wouldn’t be admitting his feeling to a stranger, but he felt like he could speak to Gordon about this. He wouldn’t judge the man, or force him to elaborate on his feelings. “Yeah, you know. He was just one of those guys. Took some terrible beating—just kept coming.”

He knew that a lot of people think that their parents are fearless, nothing bad would happen to them. Dean was one of them. He had seen his father go through hell, he really thought the man would still be around until the end. “So you’re always saying to yourself, ‘He’s indestructible, he’ll always be around. Nothing can kill my dad’.” The words on his tongue feel like poison, but he can’t help himself but continue admitting all of it. “And just like that…” He snaps his fingers, shaking his head. “He’s gone.”

Dean turns his head slightly to catch what you’re doing; you’re sitting on the edge of your barstool, mood changing dramatically from the smile that has grown on your face. You’re deep in conversation with a new bartender, he hasn’t seen you this social in quite some time. He looks back over at Gordon and forces himself to smile.

“I can’t talk about this to Sammy, or even Y/N. No,” He makes himself chuckle as he grabs his cup again. “I got to keep my game face on. But, uh,” He cleared his throat, looking back at the other man, not even realizing that he is about to admit this toward a stranger than his own brother or best friend that is constantly nagging him. He knows you would be there for him, but he can’t bring himself to add the extra stress this lifestyle has given you. “Truth is, I’m not handling it very well.” He flickers his eyes towards the table. “I feel like I have this—”

“Hole inside you?” Gordon finishes his thought. “And it just keeps getting bigger and darker and darker?” Dean stared at the man, that was exactly how he felt. “Good. You can use it. Keeps you hungry. Trust me, there’s plenty out there needs killing and this will help you do it. Dean, it’s not a crime to need your job.”

Dean was raised to believe that hunting was good for only one thing; saving people, hunting things. Sure, there was the main reason why this had all started—to get revenge on the demon. As time spent on, his father changed. This became the family lifestyle. He couldn’t help himself but think about when that demon was dead, there was always going to be more. Another person to save, another monster to kill. It would never end. And he was okay with that

A familiar laugh rang inside his ears again. Turning his head, Dean took notice of the grin that was placed across your lips. How your bangs fell across the side of your face after you shook the loose ones out of your face. Dean furrowed his brows slightly when he thinks about your reason that you’re still on the road with them, never sharing that detail quite a lot, but he is broken from his thoughts when the other man speaks up again.

“You know why I love this life?” Gordon asks. He hums a response, waiting for the answer. “It’s all black and white. There’s no maybe. You find a bad thing—kill it. Most people spend their lives in shades of gray. Is that right? Is that wrong? Not us.”

“Not sure if Y/N would agree with you, but, uh,” Dean couldn’t help himself but say, eyeing you again from the corner of his eye as he took a sip of his drink. It wasn’t a lie that you had spoken up multiple times about during hunts, always trying to do the correct thing.

“Doesn’t seem like your friend’s not much like us.” Gordon says. Dean stops taking a drink, the cup lingering in his hand for a moment, wondering what the man means by that. “I’m not saying that she’s wrong—just different. There’s something about her, I can’t quite put my finger on it.” The way that he says the word should make a bad feeling sit in his stomach but it doesn’t. He should be picking up how the man had been treating you, but it seems that the bonding was clouding his judgement. “Maybe it’s because of her mother. Rumor says she’s one of the few that retired before it was too late.”

Dean licks his bottom lip, not quite happy to remember another memory that never sits well in his mind for long. “Well, all up until almost ten years ago. She was—possessed, well, murdered. Same thing that killed, you know.” He mumbled, tilting his glass to the side. “Ella was damn good hunter. Y/N sure has that in her during the good days when she focuses.”

“I bet that.” Gordon says. “But you and me—we were born to do this. It’s in our blood.” As Gordon takes another sip of his drink, Dean can’t help himself but let the words buzz in his mind longer than he probably should have allowed it.

\+ + +

One hand was on your hip, the other parted the blinds halfway so you could take another peek out towards the motel parking lot to see if you could see Sam wandering around. But each time that you had looked out, there was not even the slightest change in scenery. You let out a frustrated sigh and dropped your hands back down your sides.

All of you had arrived back at the motel not that long ago, and while the two men had been hovering over the motel table with the outlined map of this town, discussing away of the possible vampire’s nest, you kept yourself worried about where Sam could have been. His jacket was here, the keys to the Impala were hanging off some ugly cactus desk ornament. all the belongings that someone would take if they were to leave for a long period of time were still here.

Maybe he went out to get some air, he did sound a bit stressed when he called you about twenty minutes after he left the bar. He had called Ellen to get a second opinion on Gordon, and the woman had a few choice words about him. Gordon might have been one hell of a hunter, but it was a note to remember that he didn’t play well with others. Sam asked you again if you wanted to leave, his tone shifting towards a serious one, the kind that kept you wondering if the other man could snap at any moment.

You brushed off his concerns and fooled everyone into thinking that everything was okay; a little fake laugh for the creepy bartender that was shamelessly flirting with you and a flip of the hair there. It was all an act to make the two other men that you were having a good time in that craphole. No way in hell were you going to leave Dean alone with that hunter for one minute. But as you could see that he was safe, invested in the possible hunt, you were beginning to panic about the other brother.

“What time is it?” You turned your head away from the other window when you heard Dean speak up about something different. He pulled up his jacket sleeve to take a peek at his watch, his eyebrows raised a bit as he looked around the room. “Where is Sam?”

A near scoff escaped your throat at that question. From the concentration that he had been putting on the other hunter, you were surprised that the whereabouts of his brother even crossed his mind at all. “Car’s parked outside and his jacket’s here.” You noted, your tone becoming harder. “It’s not like him to be gone this long without telling one of us.”

“He probably went out for a walk.” Gordon says, making you look as if you’re overreacting on the entire situation. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from snapping at his unwanted input that nobody wanted. “Seems like the take-a-walk type.”

“Yeah, he is, but—”

As if it was on cue, the motel door slowly opened up to reveal the tall figure that you had been hoping to see. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Sam step inside the room. “Where have you been?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, he forced a weak smile before looking down at his brother that was turned around in his chair to look at the door.

“Can I talk to you alone?” Sam asked his brother.

Dean turned around in his seat and looked back over at his new buddy. “You mind chilling out for a couple of minutes?” Gordon nodded his head, and with that approval,you watched as Dean got up from his chair and headed towards the door. Sam threw you a look to see if you wanted to join, you shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest, knowing that it would be better for this information to come from just him. If you had tried to say anything, Dean would probably brush it off as you worrying too much

You plopped yourself down on one of the beds with your back turned away from Gordon. You watched from the corner of your eye as the door closed, leaving you and him alone for the moment. A small silence had fallen over the both of you for a minute, as you kept yourself from saying anything you would regret, you couldn’t help yourself but look over your shoulder to see what the man was up to. But your face fell when you caught him staring at you, your eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You couldn’t help yourself but mutter a sarcastic comment underneath your breath, turning your head back to look at the wall. But when you heard the sounds of the wooden chair squeaking and footsteps coming towards you, you quickly bent down and grabbed the knife that you had strapped to your ankle, making it look like you were just picking something off the ground. When you felt a hand rest on your shoulder, you tighten your grip on the handle, getting ready to attack if necessary.

“You can either take your filthy hands off of me or I swear,” You threatened to the man, looking over at him with a grim expression. “I’ll throw you to those little vampires you’ve been hunting and watch as they suck you bone dry.”

“Relax,” He said, slowly putting his hands up in a defeated position. You squinted your eyes at him, slowly getting up from the bed and staring at him. “I just wanted to talk, Y/N. Settle the bad blood that seems to have formed between us.”

You made yourself put the knife back when you began to realize that you might have been overreacting just a little bit. If he was trying to come across the situation in a mature manner, so should you. You breathed loudly through your nose and stood up from the bed and crossed your arms over your chest again, wondering what he needed to get off his chest so badly. But you didn’t seem to notice the subtle movements towards the desk as Gordon shifted around so he was now standing behind it.

You looked at him again, wondering when he was going to speak up and change the outlook you had on him. Even though you and him hadn’t exchanged many words these past few hours after meeting, it was subtly known that you couldn’t stand him. Maybe thinking that he was a vampire and holding a knife to his throat wasn’t making the best of impressions. And while you shouldn’t have been trusting another person’s opinion about the man without getting to see his true colors, you still couldn’t help yourself but believe that there was something off about him. Like now; seeing the predatory look in his eye, just how he was after Dean killed the vampire, it made your skin crawl. You couldn’t help yourself but believe it was something called fear that was making you feel this way.

“What’s there to talk about, Gordon? We have different opinions on hunting.” You said. You headed over towards the window to see what was taking the boys so long. As you leaned over to take a peek in the crack of blinds again, your attention was ripped away when the familiar sounds of metal jigging catching your attention. When you turned your head, you felt yourself jump from the spot to stop Gordon from what he was trying to do. “Hey! Leave them—”

But the next thing that came out of your mouth was a curse word from the pain that you could feel from the iron like grip that was wrapped around your wrist. Gordon squeezed your flesh hard enough to make the keys to the Impala drop towards the carpeted ground. You tried to get yourself free from the man, but it seemed that every time you tried to move, he only put more pressure on your wrist. Out of defeat, you stopped moving and look at him directly, hoping that he brothers would wrap up their argument a little ahead of schedule before you jammed a pen in the man’s neck you spotted from the corner of your eye.

“There’s something about you, Y/N.” Gordon said. His empty look of emotions made your stomach turn in discomfort. “I can’t quite figure it out.”

“You think I’m bad? You should see how they’re gonna react when they see this scene.” You said, your tone coming out harder as you continued talking. “Taking the keys to Dean’s baby? Sammy finding your hands on me? Oh, they’re not gonna be happy.”

“You think you have them wrapped around your pretty little finger?“ Gordon questioned. You scoffed as he continued. “They do whatever you want?”

“No. It’s called having family that cares about keeping the ones we have left safe.” You hissed at him. You took your opportunity when he was thinking about what you had said; you roughly swung your leg forward and kick the man straight in the shin, watching as he stumbled backwards and let go of you to tend towards his wound.

You quickly bent down to grab the abandoned keys that had fallen just a foot from your feet. But as you managed to just briefly touch them, you felt a hand grab your shirt, shoving you forward at a pace you couldn’t catch yourself. A gasp of pain escape you when you felt your head hit the edge of the wooden desk before your body involuntarily stumbled to the floor to catch your breath and ignore the throbbing pain that made everything blurry.

From the three Gordons that seemed to be dancing around the room; you watched in defeat as he reached for the keys and shoved them inside his pocket, giving you a grin before getting up from the ground and quietly heading out the motel room door without the brothers noticing. You rolled around until you were lying on your backside, defeated groan escaped your lips as you closed your eyes as the room began to spin around you. It seems that you were a bit rusty on your fighting skills. You almost felt ashamed to have given up with such a quick fight. But the pounding inside your head made you close your eyes and hope the and room would stay in one place.

“Son of a bitch.” You whined out underneath our breath, the pain beginning to feel like someone was hitting you all over again when you made yourself get up into a standing position. You leaned yourself against the desk, trying your hardest to make this as it were nothing more than a small flesh wound. You dragged your body towards the bathroom to quickly clean up the wound before the blood began trickling down your forehead. As you crumbled up a towel and ran it over the warm water, you flinched in discomfort when you heard the motel door slam shut and two stomping pair of footsteps coming into the room.

“Gordon?” Dean called out, walking around the motel until he was gone again.

You cleaned the wound from any sort of blood as you heard the brothers argue about something that you couldn’t quite understand the context of. Sam was trying to stop his brother from hunting these vampires while the other one wanted to lend a helping hand towards the other man. You threw the messy towel towards the sink and headed back out in the room, catching the conversation that you knew what happened. You leaned yourself against the doorframe and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Dean muttered, putting his hand out in front of him. “I’ll drive. Give me the keys.”

You watched as the brothers headed over towards where Sam had put them last, but they froze when they realized they are missing. You rolled your eyes at how the situation was turning out for the three of you.

“He took them.” You said, watching as the brothers turned around to face you. But it was just a matter of time before their eyes trailed up towards your wound. You looked over it Dean, your face written with a glare. “Right after he pushed me and I bashed my head.”

“He did, what?” Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowing together in anger as he took a step forward. You watched as he reached out a hand to move your hair out of the way that fell into your wound, but you quickly snatched his wrist before he could even get close enough to touch you.

“Don’t touch me.” You couldn’t help yourself but speak to him in a venomous tone. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re next on my list of people’s ass I want to kick.” Sam couldn’t help himself but let out a quiet chuckle while Dean rolled his eyes at his brother’s behavior. “Now, care to tell me what the hell is going on?“

“Get in the car and then we’ll talk.” Dean muttered, nodding his head towards the door in defeat. “Both of you are a pain in my ass, I swear.”

You lightly hit in him the shoulder before stepping outside and walking to the Impala, not quite sure how all of you were going to get there without the keys. But it seems that all the hard work Dean had done not that long ago was going to be ruined from what he was about to do next. He had himself awkwardly shifted down in the driver’s side as you leaned yourself against the front to see what he was doing. He ripped out two wires from the steering wheel to hotwire the car.

“Wait, so they just let you live? No little taste tests?” You asked again, turning your attention back to Sam. He nodded his head, looking away from the map that he was tracing. While you and Dean were away, the other brother was ambushed and taken to the nest of the vampires that you were planning on hunting down. It seemed that they weren’t so evil, after all.

Sam had learned that these creatures didn’t drink human blood, but animal’s instead to control the cravings. That explained the cattle mutilations, and the two beheadings that turned out to be vampires instead of humans. Someone was killing them off, regardless of their new lifestyle changes. You had a feeling who was responsible, but you kept yourself quiet, knowing it would only just spark another argument about which brother was right.

“I can’t believe this.” Dean said, annoyance lining in his words. He kept rubbing the wires together, the only sparks flying and little engine sounds as he tried jump start the car. “I just fixed her, too.” But no more than a second later, the familiar sounds of the Impala’s roaring engine rang inside your ears. He sat back in his seat and looked over at his brother that was sitting beside him with a map lying in his lap. “So, the bridge, that’s all you got?”

“The bridge was four and half minutes from their farm.” Sam explained, his fingertip running along the red line up the map.

“How do you know?” Dean asked.

Sam looked over at his brother and gave him a look, “I counted.” He said. You and Dean seemed impressed, the younger man had picked up on his other senses while his sight was blocked out. Sam glanced back down at the map and continued explaining the directions that he could remember. “Took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly uphill then took another quick right, and we hit the bridge.”

“Wow, Sammy.” You said, a smile spreading across your lips at his impressive skills. “You seriously need to teach me how you did that.”

“You’re good. You’re a monster pain the ass,” Dean added a sarcastic remark, you threw him a dirty glare before he ruined the moment. “But you’re good.”

With that being said, you sat back in your seat and watched as the motel parking lot soon became nothing more than just a figment in the rear view mirror as all of drove off, using Sam’s directions as a way to track down Gordon before it was too late.

\+ + +

The entire car ride was nothing but tension; you watched as both brothers exchange glances as all of you continued on the journey. Dean wasn’t still on board with this idea of teaming up with the monsters that he wanted to kill, and Sam didn’t like the fact that his brother could be so bull headed. You let out a sigh as you felt the front tires go over the creaking wooden boards on the bridge. All of you were getting closer. A few minutes later, Sam pointed towards a house that looked like the owners were making a getaway from the cardboard boxes. But when you caught sight of Gordon’s car, you knew that they didn’t get very far.

You and the brothers headed inside the house after the car was parked. You wandered around until you tracked down Gordon in the dining room, but the gruesome sight wasn’t what you were expecting. A hand pressed against your open mouth at what you say; Gordon was sitting at the edge of the table with the woman, that you were expecting was the vampire he was hunting, laid in the chair with gasp of pain. She was bloody from the cuts that she had to endure, but you knew some of it was dead man’s blood from the jar that sat next to the man and the knife that lingered from his fingertips. This man made any hunter you’ve known about look like the Easter bunny from how they killed their prey.

“Sam, Dean, come on in.” Gordon got off from the table and smiled at the brothers, he picked up the knife and took a step back from his work. Your lips twitched into a frown at how the poor girl just sat there in pain, you knew she didn’t deserve this. But the man didn’t seem to get that concept so well.

“Gordon, what’s going on?” Dean asked, making himself tear his eyes away from the vampire and back towards the man that stood just across from him.

“Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man’s blood.” Gordon said in the most casual tone, as if he was discussing the weather. You looked over at Dean for a moment, knowing that he was beginning to see the man for what the truly was. “She’s gonna tell us where all her friends are, aren’t you?” He asked the vampire, as if she was going to do anything else but whimper out in pain. Gordon looked back at Dean and asked in a calm tone. “Want to help?”

“Look, man—”

“Grab a knife.” Gordon cut off Dean, he walked over towards Lenore’s left side. “I was just about to start in on the fingers.” You winced in discomfort as he took the tip of the knife and slide it across her forearm, letting her own blood mix in with the dead man’s blood.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s all just chill out, all right?” Dean said, stopping the man from cutting off her fingers for fun.

“I’m completely chill.” Gordon said, you gave the man a look of disbelief. You had seen just a fraction of what he was capable of, you knew he wasn’t calm at all.

“Gordon, put the knife down.” You ordered, getting ready to charge at eh man for a second round. But all that came out of your mouth was a small oomph when you felt your body being slammed against the brothers’ backside, blocking you from taking one more step towards the psycho with a knife. If Gordon wasn’t afraid to get a bit psychical with you before, they really didn’t want to see what he was capable when it came to you.

“It sounds like it’s Y/N here needs to chill.” Gordon said, you gave him a glare.

“Just step away from her, all right?” Sam asked, trying himself to reason with the man.

Gordon looked down at the vampire for a few seconds, the room fall silent as he debated with himself of what plan of action to take. After a grueling moment, he looked back at the other brother. “You’re right.” He said, throwing the knife towards the table. “I’m wasting my time here.”

As you thought for a moment that Gordon was coming to his senses, he was just only going for something that would be more lethal. You watched as he headed over towards the bag that sat on the table and took out a machete, taking it out of its case. “This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery.” In sickening pleasure, Gordon inspected the blade, a small smirk spreading across his lips as he continued talking, as if he was trying to make the three of you still think this was okay. “I just sharpened it, so it’s completely humane.”

“Gordon, I’m letting her go.” Sam said, stepping in before things could go worse.

But the other hunter blocked the man, stopping him from going any further. “You’re not doing a damn thing.” Gordon threatened, pointing the tip of the machete at Sam’s chest. You clenched your jaw in anger of how this situation was turning out.

“Hey, hey.” Dean said, jumping into the mess before it was too late. “Gordon, let’s talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Gordon asked the man. “LIke I said, Dean—no shades of grey.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Dean said. “And I know how you feel.”

“Do you?”

“The vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but—”

The chuckle that escaped Gordon’s throat caught the oldest winchester off guard, not exactly expecting that kind of response. It seemed there was more towards Gordon’s story than he had realized before as more details came to light. “Killed my sister.” Gordon repeated as if it was a joke. “That filthy fang didn’t kill my sister. It turned her, made her one of them.” The next thing that he had said wasn’t what you were expecting, but you didn’t know what could be considered shocking anymore with this man. “So I hunted her down, and killed her myself.”

“You did what?” You questioned the hunter, your face scrunching up in confusion. You wanted to pretend that you didn’t hear the confession that Gordon had killed his own flesh and blood.

“It wasn’t my sister anymore. It wasn’t human. I didn’t blink.” He explained, lifting the machete away from Sam’s chest as he let it linger around his eye. You had hoped he would make a false move and poke himself with it. He looked over at Dean, “And neither would you.”

“So you knew all along, then.” Sam said, catching up towards the patterns that had been lingering around. Gordon pointed the machte back to him. “You knew the vampires weren’t killing anyone. You knew about the cattle, and you just didn’t care.”

“Care about what?” Gordon asked, not seeing the point of any of what Sam was saying. “A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice, taking their time from sucking innocent people, and we’re supposed to buy that? Trust me. It doesn’t change what they are. And I can prove it.”

Everything happened too quickly; Gordon grabbed the youngest brother by his arm, giving him no chance to defend himself before the blade of the machete went running down his skin, breaking it enough to let a wound open up and a small amount of blood to come pouring out. As you heard the sound of a gun cocking back, Dean pointing it at Gordon while he had placed the machete towards the crook of Sam’s neck.

“Let him go.” Dean ordered, but Gordon didn’t like to be told what to do. “Now!”

“Relax.” Gordon said, managing to make Sam head over toward the vampire. “If I wanted to kill him, he would be on the floor. Just making a point.” He squeezed the new wound just hard enough to make a few drops of blood fall out, right on to Lorene’s face. You knew he was poking at the inner beast that the vampire tried to tame, and it was just a matter of time before she was going to relate the urges and crave the blood that was lingering above her. You watched as her fangs protruded out, hissing out as she gave in for a split second.

“Think she’s so different?” Gordon questioned. “Still want to save her? Look at her.” Your eyes flickered back towards the vampire who kept going out of control. But you knew it was just her natural instincts, just like humans had when it came towards a threat, that urge to harm it. You wanted to indulge in the feeling because you knew it would make you feel good. “They’re all the same—evil, bloodthirsty.”

But in just a blink of an eye, she made herself go back to normal. She took a few deep breaths as the word no kept being repeated over and over again. A small smile spread across your lips when the vampire proved her point that she really did have this under control.

“You hear her, Gordon?” Sam asked. It seemed that the hunter wasn’t expecting to see what he thought wasn’t possible come true right in front of his eyes. As the man gawked at the sight, he pushed himself away. “We’re done here.”

“Sam, let’s get her out of here.” You said, staring at the woman who had dealt with enough. You just wanted to clean her up and send her on her way, that was the least you could do. As Sam carried her in his arms and back away, Gordon tried to make a move, but Dean was quick to stop the man from taking another step as his brother headed out the front door.

“Gordon, I think you and I got some things to talk about.” Dean said keeping his attention and barrel of the gun pointed at the man standing across the room.

As you headed for the front door yourself, we stopped yourself, hanging on towards the door frame as you looked over at the oldest Winchester. “Hey, Dean?” You said, watching as he turned his head to look at you for a moment. “Make sure to throw in a few punches in for me.”

And with a quick wink, you swung yourself over and walked to the front door, letting the two men settle their little misunderstanding. For the moment, you had a bloody vampire and brother that needed your attention.

\+ + +

The morning sun was beginning to rise again when you and Sam made it back to the farm with a comforting thought that Lenore and her friends were out of town, far away from the hunter that once planned on killing them all. You sat in the passenger side of the Impala, squinting your eyes when you accidentally turned your head to face the driver’s side with the sun shining in your eyes. From what you could make out, Sam who was keeping himself quiet for mostly the entire ride, your eyes lingered down towards the white bandages you wrapped around his forearm. But you were quick to notice a red droplet peeking out from the top. You made a mental note to clean the wound again back at the motel.

After another few minutes of driving, the house came into view and the car stopped. Both of you stepped out and headed inside, surprised to hear silence fill the entire house. You began to wonder if Dean had ended up killing Gordon during their little talk, but you walked into the sight of the hunter tied up to a chair while the oldest Winchester circled him, as if he was going to jump out and run. But the look on Gordon’s face was nothing more than defeat, a touch of anger, but defeat. You looked over at Dean, an eyebrow arching up when you saw that he had several bruises across his cheek and a busted up lip. He looked like hell from the last time you saw him.

“We miss anything?” Sam asked, eyeing Gordon while tugging at his makeshift bandage.

“Eh, not much.” Dean said, shrugging it off. “Lenore get out okay?”

“Yeah,” You said. You shifted your attention towards the other hunter. “All of them did.”

“Then, I guess our work here is done.” Dean said. You nodded your head, eyeing Gordon again when he turned his head away to look at the corner of the room. But the oldest brother thought he needed to do just do one more thing. “How are you doing, Gordie? Gotta tinkle yet?” But the other hunter kept himself quiet, knowing he was embarrassed at how all of this went down.

“All right,” Dean began to walk over the man. “Well, get comfy. We’ll call someone in two or three days, have them come out and untie you.” You watched as he stabbed the machete straight into the wooden table, letting the blade just be in sight of Gordon’s sight when he turned his head.

“Ready to go, Dean?” You asked, gesturing your head towards the door.

“Not yet.” Dean said. He circled back towards Gordon, keeping quiet for a moment as the two of them stared at one another for a few moments. Obviously this isn’t how either of them thought their final moments together would end up. “I guess this is goodbye. Well, it’s—it’s been real. But I still owe Y/N that favor. And personally, I’ve been itching a bit of payback for what you did to her.”

Your lips twitched into a smirk when you saw Dean’s arm come swinging up and punching Gordon right into the jaw, the force was enough to send the man flying backwards in his chair. It was nothing but silence as you watched Gordon get himself back towards normal, shaking off the pain. You had felt satisfaction at what Dean had done, you wanted to go a few rounds at the man yourself, but you decided to hold back. You knew Gordon had deserved a lot worse. But knowing that he was sitting in this house to think about what he had done, what he had worked so hard on to just disappear because of you three was good enough.

“Okay.” Dean said, turning his attention back towards the two of you. But he took one more glance back at the man that was still lying on the floor. “I’m good now. We can go.”

Sam couldn’t help himself but let out a chuckle at his brother’s behavior, you took one more glance before you were following behind and stepping out back towards the outside. The three of you headed down the porch steps in silence until Dean spoke up, not sure what it was about until he was offering up something to his brother that was meant for payback for what had happened during their little fight.

“Sam.” Dean said, his brother stopped at looked at his brother, wondering what he wanted.

“Yeah?”

“Clock me one.” Dean offered, getting himself ready for the pain.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“Come on.” Dean pressed, wanting to get this over with. “I won’t even hit you back. Let’s go.”

The youngest Winchester forced out a chuckle from how his brother was acting, he shook his head. “No.” He said, still not giving into the once in a lifetime opportunity. But Dean wasn’t taking that as his final answer. You crossed your arms over your chest and smiled to yourself, finding the situation between the brothers a little bit too amusing for your own personal enjoyment.

“Let’s go. You get a freebie.” Dean continued to press for his brother to give in on the offer, circling his face with a finger. “Hit me. Come on.”

“You look like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement, Dean.” Sam said, waving off his brother as he headed towards the car. “I’ll take a rain check.”

As you and the other Winchester began to follow behind, it was just a matter of time before the guilt of everything began to set. You reach for the backseat door, but you looked over your shoulder when you heard Dean speak up, and by the tone of his voice, you knew what he was about to say wasn’t just a simple complaint. It never was.

“I wish we never took this job.” Dean said, walking towards the driver’s side and stopping. “It just jacked everything up.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, leaning himself against the top of the car.

Dean kept himself quiet for a few moments, he looked around at the acres of empty fields before breaking down and admitting what had been thinking about. “Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives.” He said, following in his brother’s position.

“Okay.” Sam said, nodding his head for his brother to continue.

“What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing?” Dean asked. “You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us.”

“Dean, after what happened to Mom,” Sam said, trailing off for a moment before continuing his thought. “He did the best he could.”

“I know he did.” Dean admitted. “But maybe he wasn’t perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things—and, man, I hate them. I do. And when I killed that vampire back at the mill, I didn’t even think about it. Hell, I even enjoyed it.”

The three of you fell silent, you thought about it for a few moments before speaking up. “You didn’t kill Lenore.” You pointed out.

“No, but every instinct told me to.” Dean said. “I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill them all.”

“Yeah, Dean, but you didn’t, and that’s what matters.” You said, shrugging your body off the car and looked at him. “And every part of me wanted to slit Gordon’s throat, but I didn’t. We all have those urges, it’s how we were raised. You did the right thing, idiot. Stop feeling guilty.”

“Yeah.” He mumbled, turning his head slightly away from you. “‘But you two are still a pain in my ass.” You couldn’t help yourself but quietly laugh and roll your eyes at his comment. 

“I guess I might have to stick around to continue being a pain in the ass, then.” Sam said, you looked over at him with a smile growing at the ends of your lips. Both of you started getting in the car, but stopped when Dean spoke up again.

“Thanks.” Dean said, you weren’t sure it was meant for the both of you. But you smiled and nodded your head, slipping yourself inside and letting out a breath of relief when you felt your body become comfortable in the seat again. It was just another moment before Dean joined you and his brother, turning on the engine and stepped on the petal, driving off the farm.

You looked back at the house one more time, hoping that you would never have to face a hunter like Gordon again. But it was a sad fact that there was more of his sadistic kind out there. And it was so easy to just turn off the empathy and kill everything that looks inhumane that moves. But you pushed the thoughts out of your mind and closed your eyes, letting a sleep be the only thing you wanted to think about right now.


	4. Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things.

“Come on, guys.” Dean complained for the thousandth time this morning, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning yourself against the seat as he continued to make his opinion known about the plans that you and Sam made behind his back. It was something that you and his youngest brother thought would have done all of you good, but Dean didn’t seem to like the idea of visiting the graves of Mary and your parents, since you were going to be in the cemetery, you thought paying a visit would have done all of you good. “I’m begging you. This is stupid.”

“Why?” Sam questioned again, losing patience with his brother’s pessimistic attitude that seemed never ending.

“Going to Mom’s grave? She doesn’t even have a grave.” Dean pointed out the gruesome facts that none of you could forget about that night. “There was not a body left after the fire.

“She has a headstone.” Sam said, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. Put up by her uncle, a man that we’ve never met.” Dean argued. “You want to pay your respects to a slab of granite but up by a stranger.”

“That’s not the point.” You said, quickly becoming annoyed with the oldest Winchester’s attitude and how much of a downer he was being. If he didn’t want to go to the grave, fine, but he should have at least respected his brother’s choices and stop arguing about it.

“Then enlighten me.” Dean said, looking over his shoulder to stare at you.

“It’s not about a body or a casket. It’s about her memory, okay?” Sam jumped in to continue to prove his point, Dean hummed a response, but hearing his tone, you knew he still wasn’t agreeing with either of you. “And after Dad, it just—it just feels like the right thing to do.”

“It’s irrational is what it is.” Dean muttered, staring at the road while he knuckled the steering wheel. You were quickly found yourself in the mood to snap and set him straight, becoming tired of the whining and complaining from the oldest Winchester.

“Look, man,” You leaned yourself up against the front seats as you continued talking to him. “No one asked you to come.”

“Why don’t we swing by the Roadhouse instead?” Dean asked, suggesting another idea that you shot down with an eye roll. “We haven’t heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down.”

“That’s a good idea. You should.” You said, stressing the word. “Just drop us off, we’ll hitch a ride, and meet you there tomorrow.”

“Right.” Dean scoffed out, you could his mood shift toward an awkward one from just the thought of being stuck with a room full of people that he’s never met. “Stuck with those people, making small talk until you show up. No, thanks.”

You leaned back in your seat and let out a breath of annoyance, wondering what was making the man seem so tense about going back to the cemetery. Sam had never visited her grave, and Dean hasn’t gone back there since the funeral. You were wondering if this was like the time all of you had to go back to your home town, he didn’t want to face the truth that he spent all the years running from to have old wounds open up again.

\+ + +

When all of you arrived to the cemetery a short while later, you wandered through the cemetery grounds, looking at endless amounts of tombstones with names that you’ve never heard of, until you found the two that you had been looking for. After your mother passed away, you had decided to send your mother back to Kansas to be buried, knowing that your father was also put to rest there. You thought it was something that your mother would have wanted, being close towards her love and good friend that both have passed away tragically many years before. And part of you didn’t want to ruin the only place that you had felt was really home. Kansas held so many bad memories, your mother’s death could stay there.

You forced yourself to drop down toward a crouch so you were now at eye level with the two graves that they were on each of your side; your father on your left, your mother on the right. Seeing the timeline of their deaths made a emotion of realization begin to sit in your chest. You were beginning to realize everyone that you or the brothers had loved was dead.

You reached a hand inside your pocket to feel the metal brush against your knuckle. You grabbed the objects and watched as the gold reflected the sunlight that was pouring down from above. In your palm laid your parents’ wedding rings, something that you had decided to take with you after the break in back at your hometown. You couldn’t think of the idea of someone, or something, stealing a precious family heirloom that your mother had worn up to the day she died. And it was an idea after Sam thought burying his father’s dog tags in his mother’s grave was the right thing to do. You thought burying them where they were close could bring a sense of closure to everything that had happened to you in the past.

Dropping to your knees; you clutched the rings in one hand while the other dug your fingers into the grass, digging up a decent size hole that could fit a small ring. You took the gold band and dropped it towards your father’s grave before filling it backup again. You did the same thing to your mother’s grave, but decided to leave her engagement ring back with you, suddenly the thought of it rusting it the dirt wasn’t good for you. So, you shoved it back inside your pocket for safe keeping and got back up to your feet to overlook the graves once more.

“I love you, guys. I really do” You mumbled to yourself, you looked over shoulder to see that Sam was still at his mother’s own grave and Dean was walking around, wanting no part of this. You turned your attention back towards the graves. “But I have another family that needs me.”

You let out a sigh and turned your body back around on your heels, heading over towards the youngest brother that had still been at the other grave for the last five minutes. You couldn’t help yourself but grow more concern for the oldest Winchester, who had stopped roaming around the grounds and was now standing next to a dying tree, knocking on it before dropping his attention towards a body that must have been buried from the lack of tombstone and just the paper marking that was on the ground. Knowing him, he was probably trying to find another excuse to ignore everything that had been going on by turning his back. See no grief, feel no grief.

You placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder before giving it a small squeeze, his head turned around to see who it was. You watched as his lips forced themselves into a returning smile when he saw that it was you. But you could still see the hurt in his eyes. Both of you took mere glance back at the grave before deciding that it was time to say your goodbyes. Sam turned around and finally let out a breath, having a peaceful feeling knowing that his deceased mother had something small of her husband.

As you began wondering where the other brother had wandered off towards, you caught sight of him talking to one of the funeral directors. You nudged Sam with your shoulder to show him what was going on, both of you had a feeling this was Dean’s way of trying to pry his way into a possible case or his curiously always got the best of him. You watched as Dean grabbed a business card from the man and headed towards the two of you, a small smile spread across his lips, like he had found something he wasn’t looking for. An eye roll threatened to come through at how the oldest Winchester’s mind worked.

“Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college.” Dean said a name that none of you had heard of before. You looked at him for a few moments, wondering where he was trying to take this as all of you began walking back to the car. “Her funeral was three days ago.”

“And?” Sam asked, his voice trailing off.

“And?” Dean repeated his brother, eyebrows arching up in surprise at his reaction. He gestured an arm toward the place where the girl was buried. “You saw her grave—everything dead around it and a perfect circle. You guys don’t think it’s a little weird?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Maybe the groundskeeper went a little argo with the pesticide.”

“No, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals.” Dean corrected you. “Nobody can explain it.”

“Okay, so, what are you thinking?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know.” The oldest Winchester admitted. “Unholy ground, maybe?”

“Un—” You stopped yourself, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing when you looked back at the grounds. He must have been desperate to keep himself from thinking about what was going on around him, but you thought he wouldn’t be this into something that could be just a simple little groundskeeper problem. Maybe one of her friends wanted to have a bit of fun and mess with the gravediggers, but you had a feeling Dean the victim, stepping into the joke that he was taking way too seriously.

“What?” Dean questioned, catching sight of your amused expression. You shook your head, making yourself seem more serious when he lectured about information you already knew. “If something evil happened, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?”

“Yeah?” Sam wondered, shaking his head as his face scrunched up in confusion.

“It could be a sign of a demonic presence,” Dean thought out loud, you and Sam couldn’t help but glance back at one another, sharing the same looks of skepticism of what the other man was saying. “Or the Angela girl’s spirit, if it’s powerful enough.” You let out a sigh and shook your head, making your way back to the car with the youngest brother following by your side. “Well, don’t get too excited.” Dean sarcastically yelled out. “You might pull something.”

“It’s just stumbling on a hunt,” Sam said, his voice trailing off as he headed towards the passenger side of the Impala. “Here all of places?”

“So?” Dean asked.

“So, are you sure this is a hunt,” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, giving the man that stood across on the other side of the car a look, tilting your head to the side. “And not something else?”

“What else would it be about?” Dean asked you, putting his hands on top of the roof. The look on his face was nothing serious, making you feel as if he had no idea what you were hinting about.

You let out a sharp sigh, rolling your eyes as you reached for the door handle of the car. “Just forget it.” You mumbled, getting ready to slide yourself into the back, but Dean stopped you before you could escape this conversation.

“Believe what you want, Y/N,” Dean said. “but I let you guys drag my ass out here.”

“No one held a gun to your head and forced you to be here, Dean.” You argued back, narrowing your eyes at him. “But if this case makes you stop being in a bitchy mood, whatever.” When you agreed to check out the bogus case, you and Dean glanced over at the other brother, wondering if he was also on board.

“Yeah, fine.” Sam muttered, knowing that his opinion didn’t matter. He was going to find himself dragged into this mess, regardless.

“The girl’s dad works in town. He’s a professor at the school.” Dean said. He gave you and his brother a cocky smile before opening up the driver’s side door and sitting himself inside the car. You rolled your eyes while you heard Sam let out a sigh of annoyance. Neither of you wanted to look into this case, but it seemed that no matter what you said, nothing would change Dean’s mind about this.

\+ + +

You and the brothers stood at the doorway of Professor Mason, directions given by a college student that helped you after making up some bogus story about a late term paper. You knocked on the door and waited a few moments until a man that looked to be in his early fifties opened up the door, he gave you three a curious glance over, probably figuring out that you didn’t look like one of his students here for help. You politely smiled at him when the both of you made eye contact again.

“Dr. Mason?” Dean asked, the professor looked over at him.

“Yes.” He answered.

“I’m Y/N,” You cut off the oldest brother, smiling ever so slightly again. “This is Sam, and that’s Dean. We were friends of Angela’s. We wanted to offer our condolences.”

“Please come in.” Dr. Mason said, opening up the door wider as he stepped out of the way, gesturing for the three of you to come inside. You headed in first and mumbled a thank you, looking at the interior of his office before taking a seat on the couch with Sam after the older man offered it to the three of you. But you watched from the corner of your eye as Dean continued to stand, observing the office with more interest than you had been. Your attention was ripped away when the professor came back with the scrapbooks that he went on about, his daughter had made them for him just a few years ago.

You and Sam began to flip through them, you noticed the pictures were only of him and his daughter. You turned another page and smiled to yourself, happy to see how close they were from how much love she had in her eyes while they posed for pictures. It must have been killing him, losing the only daughter that he had at such a young age while you heard him go on about her, saying how much of a bright student she was, how much everyone loved her. She seemed like a sweet, down to earth girl that happened to have died too young. As they say, the good ones are always taken away too soon.

“She was beautiful.” Sam commented, eyeing the young brunette in the photos.

“Yes, she was.” The professor agreed with a nod of the head.

“This is an unusual book.”

Your eyes trailed up from the photographs towards Dean, who was standing at a bookcase with a thick book in his hands, showing off a title that you couldn’t read. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, knowing that he was trying to pry himself into a lead that could make it known that there really was a case here. The professor didn’t seem to mind going into detail about the book, making it known that there was a reason why it was sitting in his office.

“It’s ancient greek.” The professor explained. “I teach a course.”

Dean turned the book around and stared at it a few moments, his eyebrows knitting together before he shrugged it off and put the book back on the shelf. You watched as he took a few steps forward, getting ready to make another move at getting more information about Angela’s death. “So, a car accident.” He started, “That’s—That’s horrible.”

“Angie was only a mile away from home when…” Dr. Mason trailed off, you saw his lower lip quiver as he thought about the tragedy again. But that didn’t stop Dean from pressing for more.

“It’s gotta be hard, losing someone like that.” Dean said, you gave him a stern look when he continued speaking, knowing that between the words, he was leading the conversation into a different direction than the father was realizing. “Sometimes it’s like they’re still around, almost like you can still sense their presence. You ever feel anything like that?”

“I do, as a matter of fact.” The professor said. You watched as Dean’s face turned into a told-you-so kind of look when he made eye contact with you, but you just glared at him, popping down his idea of whatever he was trying to get this man to admit.

“That’s perfectly normal, Dr. Mason,” You said, glancing back at the man as your face softened when you made eye contact. Dean’s face dropped as you talked to the man. “Especially with what you’re going through. Sometimes grief can make us feel or do strange things.”

“You know, I still phone her.” Dr. Mason admitted, you swallowed as you heard the rest. “And the phone’s ringing before I remember that, uh…” He trailed off, becoming quiet for a few moments. “Family’s everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now I’m just lost without her.”

Your eyes trailed away from the man as you looked up to see Dean, who had turned his head away and looked at something from the other side of the room. You licked your bottom lip before glancing back over at the father. “I’m very sorry.” You mumbled, forcing another smile.

\+ + +

“There’s just something going on. We just haven’t found it yet.”

“Dean, so far you got a patch of dead grass and nothing.”

You pressed your ear to the motel bedroom wall, eavesdropping on the brothers’ conversation that was going on in the next room. The good thing about staying in cheap places like this, the walls were almost paper thin, making it easier for you to see what they were talking about when you weren’t around. So far you could hear Sam not believing the case that Dean had thought was here, but the oldest kept making excuses that there was in fact enough evidence to make it seem like there was a vengeful spirit on the loose. But you cursed underneath your breath when you heard the voices trail off, making it harder for you to listen in.

You headed out of the room and walked into the hallway, deciding that the only way you were going to get a better volume is if you were close up and personal. You pressed your body towards their door without making a sound, you felt your lips twitch into a smile when you heard them continue the conversation, but you could feel it dropping when Sam was leading the discussion towards what happened earlier, and Dean wasn’t happy. They argued for another few moments before you heard the sounds of keys jingling. You knew that this was Dean’s way of getting out from sharing his feelings, bolting for the bar, but you had a feeling he was going to make another stop before grabbing this supposedly drink he had planned.

Quickly as you could, you headed down the hall and towards the parking lot, searching for the Impala before spotting it just across the street. You made your way across and waited until the driver came out, alone like you had suspected. He walked across the parking lot, looking around the quiet area, having no idea you were about to ruin his plans. You leaned yourself against the driver’s side door and crossed your arms over your chest, growing a smile when you and Dean made eye contact, his face dropped into annoyance.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“To get a drink. Alone.” Dean stated. “Now get out of my way.”

“Ooh, wrong answer. Try again.”

“Move, Y/N.”

“You’re going to Angela’s apartment, aren’t you?” You guessed, smiling when you watched as his mouth dropped open, as if he was going to ask you how he knew his plans. “Oh honey, I know you and your brother than you know yourselves. I know what moves you’re going to make before you even do them.And I know you’re not going to drink away your problems. You’re too focused on proving to me and Sam that there is in fact something here. I’m coming with you.”

“I thought you were against this.“ Dean said. “You’ve clearly made your opinion loud and clear, like always.”

You gave him a glare, "Well, I changed my mind.”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“Nope.” You said, pushing yourself off the car and heading over towards the passenger’s side before he could stop you from coming. “Now get in loser, we’ve got some digging to do.”

\+ + +

You stood on the porch of Angela’s house that was being rented out by her and one of her good friends, her father had told you before making your departure earlier in the day, and from the lack of lights on inside and not a car parked in the driveway, you and Dean thought that nobody was home. But there was just a small flaw in the plan, the man had forgotten his tools back home to pick the lock and you were lacking a bobby pin. As he thought about breaking a window to enter, you quickly stopped him when a thought came across your mind after you twisted around the doorknob to see what kind of lock you were dealing with.

“Give me a credit card.” You said, putting out a hand and waiting for the object.

“What? You gonna call a locksmith?” Dean asked in a sarcastic tone, reaching inside his back pocket to pull out his wallet. You gave him a look before grabbing the scam cards.

“No. I’m doing your job, ass.” You mumbled, dropping down towards a crouch so you were at eye level with the lock. You put the card just next to the lock, twisting the knob until it stopped, you shoved the card again and began to work until you heard the metal click back and the door squeak open.

Looking over your shoulder, a cocky grin began to tug at the end of your lips. Dean rolled his eyes and snatched the credit card away from your hand, mumbling something about getting lucky. You stood back up and let out a quiet laugh, pushing open the door so the both of you could head inside and start this little investigation before someone came back and found out what you two were doing.

“Sam teach you that?” Dean asked, you heard his voice turn into curiosity when he stopped inside after you. You hid back another smile as you turned your back to him, grabbing a book that seemed to have caught your attention from the title.

“Nope.” You said, flipping through the novel that you had read before during one summer. “Learned how to do it after I snuck out when I was a teenager. Of course, my mom found out how faulty our locks were and had then changed the next day.”

“Y/N has a bit of a rebel in her, huh? Let me guess, you got home late from some wild study group that went on for too long.” Dean couldn’t help himself but tease you, smiling when he watched the color of your cheeks began to turn pink from embarrassment.

You wandered away from the book and headed over towards the kitchen counter after spotting a cardboard box sitting around with crumpled up newspaper lining the top. You took a peek of what was inside as Dean wandered towards a picture of the girl, picking up from the shelf that it was sitting by itself. The both of you were quiet for a few moments before you spotted something moving from the corner of your eye. You looked over towards the hall, but your face dropped in panic when you caught sight of her friend, who seem more freaked out from the sight of you two than your lack of judgement from what you had thought before stepping inside the place.

Before you could open up your mouth to explain what you were doing here in her house, she was screaming, “Who the hell are you?!” all before she disappeared from sight, you heard the sounds of the door locking as you cursed underneath your breath when she slipped away. You bit the inside of your cheek when she threatened to be calling the cops.

“We’re Angela’s cousins.” You blurted out, giving Dean a panicked expression while you and him stood in the hall where her friend was.

“What?” She called out in confusion.

“Yeah,” Dean joined in the bogus story, making out lies better than you could from your restless brain that had been spooked from the unexpected company you thought wasn’t home. “Her dad sent us over to pick her stuff up. My name is Alan—Alan Stanwyk.” You furrowed your eyebrows at his made up name, he shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what else to do.

But it seemed that whatever had Dean said made the girl seem a bit more trustworthy. You watched as the doorknob slowly turn before she poked her head out, looking at the both of you for a few seconds. “Her dad didn’t say that you were coming.” She said, you turned your head to look at Dean, wondering what the next part of story was before the both of you were walking away from this house in handcuffs.

“Well, I mean,” Dean started, his hands moving around before one slipped into his coat pocket and pulling out the keys to the Impala. He cleared his throat, giving the girl a smile. “How else would we have a key to your place?” But she still didn’t seem so convinced, giving him a blank stare while you heard Dean force out a chuckle to make the mood lighter.

“Look,” You spoke up, glancing over at Dean before back at the girl. You opened your mouth, wondering if she was going to say her name in order to make this easier. She mumbled it out, you smiled at her. “Lindsey, why don’t you put on some clothes and I’ll make you something to drink. These past few days haven’t been very on all of us. I’m sure a nice, long talk will do us good. Right, Alan?” You asked, surprised to see yourself making a straight face when you repeated the horrible name he made on top of his head.

“Right.” Dean repeated, pointing a finger towards the bedroom door that was cracked open just a tiny bit. You gave him a look, but he dodged it as he smiled again at the girl. “While you two have that girl talk, I’m gonna grab that…thing, I was sent over here for.”

You threw the man daggers when he turned around and headed over towards the bedroom, leaving you alone with the frightened roommate. You forced yourself to smile when you turned back to the girl, mumbling an excuse me before you headed back to the kitchen to find a tea kettle while she changed and Dean snooped around the dead girl’s room. You slammed the bottom cabinet drawer in frustration when you found that black tea kettle.

Stupid Winchester, you thought to yourself while you filled up the pot with water and put in on the stove. You knew this was payback from the backlash you were giving him earlier in the day and poking your nose in his business. He wanted to do this case so badly, why couldn’t he talk to the grieving roommate? But nooo. He had to go peeking in some dead girl’s bedroom for evidence. You snorted to yourself as you grabbed two coffee cups, knowing there was probably more than one reason he wasn’t telling you about.

After a few minutes, you came back to the living room with two cups of scalding hot tea where you saw Lindsay sitting on the couch, now dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. You set the cups down and plopped yourself down in one of the small footstools that was just across from her. As you opened your mouth to start talking, you felt your lips stretched into an awkward frown when you watched as she quickly let out a sob, wasting no time in letting her emotions get the best of her. You reached for a tissue that was sitting on the coffee table and handed it to her, giving a soft smile before diverting your attention to the hall. Come on, Dean.

“So,” You said, starting off the conversation that you had hoped would lead you to the reason why you were harassing this poor girl about her dead best friend. “I’m sure you got a view of Angela that none of the family got to see. Tell me, what was she like?” You asked her, leaning in closer as a small smirk spread across your lips.. “Between us girls, what was she really like?”

“She was great. Just…great.” Lindsay said, finding the lack of adjectives from the grief that was clouding her thoughts. You forced yourself to continue smiling. This wasn’t what you were expecting. “I mean, she was just so…” She trailed off, as if she was trying to find the proper word to finish with, you had a feeling what she was trying to say.

“Great.”

“Yeah.” She sobbed out, voice breaking as she continued crying. “Yeah.”

You looked away towards the corner of the room, annoyance beginning to make you feel uncomfortable as the waterworks continued. You grabbed another tissue and handed it her, taking in a deep breath before you made yourself ask her more questions to see if this girl was worth your time. All you had been hearing about her was that she was a precious little angel. Not someone who would want to rise from the dead and cause everyone’s life a living hell from beyond the grave.

“You two must have been really close, huh?” You asked, smiling again.

She nodded her head, “We were.” She admitted, but as she continued talking, you felt yourself begin to grow interested in this case, after all. There had been some part of this story that was beginning to grip your attention from the new person that seemed to be making her overly emotional about the turn of events. “But it’s not just her, it’s Matt.”

“Who?”

“Angela’s boyfriend.” She said, giving you a confused look when you didn’t realize who he was. You just smiled again, nodding your head as you pretended to remember the man that you had never met in your entire life.

“Right, Matt.” You mumbled, letting out a nervous chuckle while you looked over your shoulder quickly to see if Dean was going to pop back up, of course, he was still missing in on the action. “Um,” You looked back over at her while crookedly smiling, “What about him?”

“He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat.” She explained, shaking her head with disbelief. You furrowed your eyebrows as she sounded just as bewildered as you were. “Who does that?”

“That’s…terrible.” You mumbled.

“He was talking Angela’s death pretty hard,” and I guess,“ Lindsay stopped herself from talking again when you saw her get a bit emotional while she talked. But she took in a shaky breath and continued. "I mean, he’s been messed up about it for days.”

“Messed up how?” You asked.

You had heard people doing pretty crazy things during their time of grieving. All though, killing yourself was a pretty dramatic step. It was almost all like he was taking a chapter from the Romeo and Juliet love story, ending your life because you couldn’t be with their true love. As Lindsay continued, she told you about what had happened before the suicide taken place. You were beginning to become invested as much as Dean was.

“He kept saying that he saw her everywhere.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s normal.” You said, a hand rubbing the back of your neck. “I mean, with everything that he’s been going through.”

“He said that he saw her.” She said, leaning in closer as she stressed the word. “Like some acid trip or something.

You began to connect the dots together, you looked at her with a weak smile. "Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, would there be any reason Angela would be angry with him?”

Lindsay looked at you with confusion, as if you had sprouted a second head while the conversation went on. “What? No. Of course not. Why do you ask?”

“Just asking.” You mumbled, averting your gaze towards the other side of the room for a few moments before you looked back at her. A small smile spread across your lips. “Where did Matt live? Angela told me ages ago, but I seem to have forgot. I just wanted to pay my respects, you know?”

Lindsay nodded her head, getting up from the couch and heading over towards the kitchen where she grabbed a yellow note pad and a blue pen. You watched as she wrote down the address, but you turned your attention away when heavy footsteps began to come towards the two of you. Dean had come back empty handed, you gave him a look before glancing back at the roommate, smiling and thanking her again for what she had done.

As you turned around, you headed up to Dean and brought out an arm, digging your nails into his jacket and yanking him out the door. You waited until the both of you were outside before you decided to take your frustration out on the man. You shook your head, shoving the piece of paper into your pocket.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, trying to change the topic to something else

“Her phone number.” You mumbled in a sarcastic tone. You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk that began to spread across his lips, probably thinking that it was for him. “It’s directions to the boyfriend’s house. Seems that he slit his own throat last night after saying he saw Angela everywhere.”

“So,” Dean said, heading toward the driver’s side of the car. You knew the arrogance was about to come back, you took a hold of the passenger side door and yanked it open. “I hear we have a case, don’t we?”

“Don’t hurt yourself getting in the car, Dean.” You mumbled, a small smirk spreading across your face when he gave you a confused look. “Your head’s getting pretty big.” A small giggle escaped you when you sat back in the seat, hearing Dean mumble something underneath his breath before following in your actions. It was a few moments before you heard the engine rose to life and the both of you drove off, heading back to the motel after making a quick stop at Matt’s place to see if there was anything that could lead you to figure out what was going on.

\+ + +

You headed back inside of the motel room after searching every inch of Matt’s apartment that had turned into a crime scene after what had happened. Beside the blood that didn’t seem too suspicious into making you think there was a case, you had noticed the amount of dead plants, just like Dean had pointed out at the grave sight. You opened up the door to warn Sam of his older brother’s arrogant attitude and the fact that you had a legitimate case from the evidence that you saw, but what you walked in on was something that you weren’t quite expecting. Or never wanted to see in your entire life, for that matter. You had caught him watching something that you didn’t want to even think about one of the brothers doing. Porn. He was watching porn, and you had to walk on it.

“Hey.” Sam said, clicking off the TV before you could see what he was watching again. He composed himself, acting as if nothing had happened. You pointed a finger to the black screen, eyebrows furrowing. He gave you a confused look, not sure what was making you seem so off put from him. “What?”

Dean had followed behind you just a few seconds later, watching as the entire situation play out with an amused look starting to spread across his face. He stood by your side for a moment, his smile growing from your disgusted face and Sam’s nonchalant expression. “Awkward.” The oldest brother mumbled underneath his breath, continuing to walk across the room.

“What the hell were you two?” Sam asked, trying to get the conversation back on to something a bit more important. You headed over toward Dean’s bed and sat yourself down, watching as the other brother make himself feel important after proving you and Sam wrong.

“Just working my imaginary case.” Dean said, tossing his jacket on top of the TV.

“Yeah? And?”

“Oh, well, you were right. I didn’t find much.” Dean said. You rolled your eyes as he tried to play all of this off as a big reveal. He turned his back to look at his brother, giving him the information that you had learned. “Yeah. Except Angela’s boyfriend died last night—slit his own throat, but,” He shrugged his shoulders, brushing off the news as Sam seemed surprised, “You know, that’s normal. Uh, let’s see. What else? Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But, you know, I’m sure that’s just me transferring my feelings.”

“Okay, I get it.” Sam said. “I’m sorry. Maybe there is something going on here.”

“Maybe?” Dean questioned, turning around to face his brother. “Sam, I know how to do my job despite what you might think.”

“We get it, Dean.” You mumbled, looking at him with annoyance. “Do you want us to give you a gold star for figuring out our next case?” You gave him a toothy grin when he flashed a dirty look at you, knowing that you weren’t having any of his little attitude.

“We should check out the guy’s apartment.” Sam said, giving the both of you a quick look.

“That was our last stop after I was done harassing the dead girl’s roommate.” You said, watching from the corner of your eye as Dean sat down in one of the schares to take off his shoes. “A pile of dead plants just like a cemetery. Hell, a dead goldfish, too.”

“So, unholy ground?” Sam asked. You shrugged your shoulders, clueless about what you could be dealing with. This wasn’t like other cases with a spirit involved, but with more digging around, you were sure that the answers you needed to solve this case would pop up.

“Maybe. I’m still not getting that powerful angry-spirit vibe from Angela. I’ve been reading this, though.” You watched as Dean got up from the bed and headed over towards the TV again where his coat was. He pulled out something that was a shade of light pink and was rather small, but you gave him a look when you saw what it was, the golden lock was a giveaway. It explains why he was gone for so long. He had found something that every girl had cherished, what was her real best friend.

“You stole the girl’s diary?” Sam asked with disbelief, his eyebrows raising slightly.

“Yeah, Sam.” Dean said, flipping through the journal entries again. “And if anything, the girl’s a little bit too nice.”

“So, what do you want to do?” You asked, pushing yourself up into a sitting position again.

“Keep digging.” Dean said. “Talk to more of her friends.”

“You get any names?”

“You kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Dean said, smirking at his brother before throwing him the book to take a look at it himself. You jumped up and headed towards the other bed where Sam was sitting, wondering yourself what the girl had to hide from all of the world.

\+ + +

Every pretty girl had three main people in her life; the best friend, a boyfriend and of course, the one boy that was her rock. She probably had told him everything in confidence and he followed her around like a little puppy, head over heels for the woman that he would never have. From the looks of him after you and the brothers tracked him down, he was a sort of dorky looking man that seemed like he was more broken about Angela’s death and not her boyfriend’s. You stood on one of the porch steps with your back pressed towards one of the banisters, your arms crossed over your chest as the brothers tried to pose themselves as counselors. But it seemed that the man wasn’t in the mood to share his feelings.

“I didn’t realize the college employed grief counselors.” Neil said, you averted your attention towards Dean, wondering what he was going to say next. You watched as an awkward smile began to creep along his lips, the wheels in his head turning to continue with this bogus cover.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean said, nodding head. “Yeah, you talk, we listen and maybe even thrown in a little therapeutic collage—whatever helps jump-start the healing.”

“Well, I think I’m okay. Thanks.” Neil said, not seeming quite interested in sharing. As he turned around to head back inside, you decided to throw in another angle to get the man to crack just a little bit and spill something that would be useful for the three of you.

“Well, you heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?” You asked, Neil turned around to look at you.

“Yeah, I did.” He said, nodding his head.

“We just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Sam joined into the conversation. “Grief can make people do crazy things.”

Neil looked at the three of you for a few moments, but he still didn’t seem to be as broken up about what had happened like the rest of the people that you had talked to earlier today. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself, it wasn’t ‘cause of grief.”

“No?” You curiously asked. “Then why?”

“It was guilt.” He said. You furrowed your eyebrows, but as he continued talking, everything was beginning to make a bit more sense. “Angie’s death was Matt’s fault, and he knew it.”

“How was Matt responsible?” Sam asked.

“She really loved that guy, but the night of the accident, she walked on him with another girl.” He explained. Well, that sure would piss off anyone enough to seek revenge from the grave. “She was really torn about. That’s why she crashed.” Neil shifted in spot on the porch, pointing a thumb towards the front door. “Um, look, I got to get ready for work, so thanks for the concern, but seriously, I’ll be okay.”

The front door closed behind the man after stepping inside, Dean turned himself on his heels to look at you and his brother. You headed down the steps first while the other two followed behind just a moment later. As the three of you began walking back down the sidewalk you came from, you turned your head towards Dean when he began speaking again about the case.

“Well my vengeful-spirit theory is starting to make a little bit more sense.” Dean said, stepping off the sidewalk and heading towards the parked Impala. “I mean, Hell hath no fury.”

“So, if Angela got her revenge on Matt, do you think it’s over?” Sam asked, heading towards the passenger side before stopping in his tracks.

Dean dug his hand inside his jacket pocket and thought it about it for a few moments. You opened up the back seat door and slipped yourself inside when you heard the locks shift. “Well, there’s one way to be sure.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, sitting himself in the seat and slamming the door shut. “What’s that?”

“Burn the bones.”

You and the youngest brother looked at each other for a few moments, trying to figure out if what Dean had just said was correct.You forced out a laugh before you were pressing yourself against the front seat, your head between the brothers. “Burn the bones?” You repeated. You chuckled as Dean turned his head to look at you a nonchalant expression. “Are you high?” He pretend to think about it, you rolled your eyes in frustration. “Angela died last week.”

“So?” Dean asked, not getting you were so against this idea.

“So there’s not gonna be bones.” Sam pointed out,giving his brother a grossed out look while he gave him reasons why this wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for any of you. “There’s gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin.” You crinkled your nose at his description.

“Since when are you two afraid to get dirty, huh?” Dean asked, turning on the engine.

“Since we have to burn a fresh corpse, that’s why! Leave me out of this one.” You said, leaning back in your seat, throwing your hands up in a defeated motion. “That’s what you two are for, to do all the smelly work.”

\+ + +

Night had fallen when the three of you went back towards the graveyard with the duffel bag full of the proper supplies needed and two shovels to dig up the body. You watched as the the brothers got started digging; an hour passed when you started to see progress begin to show through from the two large dirt piles and the bodies beginning to become deeper as the dug farther. You were beginning to grow bored from the situation, you laid on your backside in the patches of grass and dirt to overlook the black sky that were dancing with stars, a sight that you haven’t seen in a long time. As you were beginning to grow more fascinated with what was going on above, you had almost forgotten about what you were here for.

“Hello? Y/N!”

You made yourself get back up into a sitting position, shaking out whatever could have stuck in your hair before you grabbed your flashlight and turned it back on. You swung it around and, as revenge, flashed it directly into the brothers’ eyes, smirking when you saw them flinch. “What?”

“Mind doing what we brought you here for?” You rolled your eyes at his sass, pushing yourself so you were on your knees and leaning over the freshly dug grave. You sucked in a deep breath when you caught sight of the wooden coffin. Dean crouched down for a moment, not sure what it was from the darkness, but it was probably to open the box. He got back up and wiped away the sweat, looking over at his brother. “Ladies first.”

Sam let out a sigh of annoyance, hating the fact that he was one who had to do the dreaded task. He bent down and took a hold of the top, swinging it open to reveal the dead body. As you flashed the light over the coffin, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It was…empty? You looked over at the boys, not sure what the hell was going on.

“They buried the body four days ago.” You said, looking over at Dean. “Right?”

“I don’t get it.” Sam said. You had worked a lot of cases with dead bodies and digging up graves, but this one was beginning to become the strangest one yet.

Dean flashed his light over something when he examined the coffin, you leaned in closer to see what he was examining. “Look.” He said, crouching down with his brother to take a peek. It looked like someone had destroyed the white lining of the box to put something inside that you had presumed was a book with strange symbols that you couldn’t understand.

“What is that?” You asked, glancing over at one of the boys for answers.

“I’m not sure.” Sam said, clueless as you were about what all of you were staring at.

“I’ve seen these kind of symbols before.” Dean mumbled underneath his brother. Sam and you turned your heads to look at the oldest brother when you heard that answer. You had a feeling what you were about to find out wasn’t going to be good, it never was with the wicked.

\+ + +

Dean pounded his fist against the front door of Dr. Mason’s house at early in the morning, you could hear the echos of the noise going through the quiet neighborhood. You looked over your shoulder to see if there was any bystanders who had noticed the disruption, but it seemed that there wasn’t a soul around except for three of you.

You glanced back over at the oldest Winchester; his face was stretched into a scowl as his hand was by his side, still clutched in a tight fist. Sam was standing on his right, showing concern for his brother, that seemed to have shifted moods quite easily after doing a bit of research at the library before heading here. It seemed that what you learned about the symbols set him off the edge. You were still wondering what it was that kept him acting like there was a nasty thorn in his side.

“Dean, take it easy, okay?” Sam asked, giving his brother a look that the both of you had worked a warning that he didn’t stop, trouble would only follow. But Dean just pounded on the door again, ignoring the concern looks you kept giving him.

Finally, after a few more moments of waiting, you watched as the front door opened up to reveal the professor himself, dressed in high night clothes with his robe wrapped around his body. You let out a quiet sigh before forcing a weak smile, know it wasn’t exactly polite to be barging it at such an early hour without a warning. “You’re Angie’s friends.” Dr. Mason said, a small smile of his own spread across his lips, unaware of the brutal conversation that was about to come.

“Dr. Mason—”

“We need to talk.” Dean cut you off, thinking that your approach was too polite. You gave him a look, knowing this wasn’t how the three of you had discussed before arriving.

The professor looked at the other man for a moment, taken back by his tone of voice, but he stepped back slightly and opened up the door. “Well, come in.” He said, you gave him another smile when you stepped inside behind Dean, seeming that he wanted to waste no time before getting down to business.

All of you walked a few feet inside the home; you crossed your arms over your chest and watched as Dean reached inside his jacket pocket to pull out the piece of paper that he drawn from the book that you had found in the coffin. “You teach ancient Greek. Tell me something,” He said, opening up the piece of paper and handing it over towards the professor. “What are these?”

The professor stared at the drawing for a few moments, his eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand.” He mumbled, looking up from the paper. “You said this had something to do with Angela.”

“It does.” Dean said. “Please, just humor me.”

“They’re part of an ancient greek divination ritual.” The professor started to explain.

“Used for necromancy, right?” Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

“That’s right.”

“See, before we came over here, we stopped by the library and did a little homework ourselves.” Dean said. “Apparently, they use rituals like this one for communicating with the dead, even bringing corpses back to life—full-on zombie action.”

“Yeah. I mean, according to the legends.” Dr. Mason mumbled, not sure what the man was getting at. The smallest smile spread across the man’s lips, not knowing what it could have been used for, or that it could have worked. “Now, what’s this all about?’

“I think you know.” Dean said in a not so friendly tone, snatching back the paper. You heard Sam mumble his brother’s name as a warning, knowing the man was about to lose control. But Dean didn’t seem to care. “Look, I get it. There are people that I would give anything to see again, but what gives you the right?” Sam tried calling his brother’s name again in a louder, more stricter tone, but the conversation went on like you or him weren’t even in the room.

“What are you talking about?” The professor asked with confusion. He really didn’t know what was going on, you opened your mouth to try and intervene, but another voice caught you off before you had the chance.

“What’s dead should stay dead!” Dean hissed, each word was perfectly hit with the anger that was building inside his chest, demanding attention. And he was taking it on anyone that would listen.

“What?” The other man asked, his face scrunching up in bewilderment at what was going on.

“Stop it!” Sam ordered, but the other brother wouldn’t.

“What you brought back isn’t your daughter! These things are vicious, they’re violent!” Dean explained to the man what you had found out, Angela was a zombie. And he was making sure the father knew what was going on from someone’s choice to do the ritual. But you had a feeling by the look on his face he wasn’t the man that had committed it. “They’re so nasty, they rot the ground around them. I mean come on! Haven’t you seen ‘Pet Sematary’?”

“You’re insane.” The professor hissed, you watched as he headed for the phone.

“Where is she?” Dean questioned still not giving up.

“Get out of my house.” Dr. Mason threatened, picking up the phone as he dialed. But Dean stomped over and ripped the phone of us hands, slamming it back down on the receiver. You looked over towards the windows, you quickly noticed the living plants that were soaking up the morning sun.

“I know you’re hiding her somewhere.” Dean yelled, leaning in closer to the man as he started shouting, making a fool out of himself. “Where is she?!”

“Dean, stop! That’s enough.” You yelled at the top of your lungs, you grabbed a hold of the man’s arm and yanked him backwards when he wasn’t paying attention. You took a hold of his chin and forced him to look at what you had found. “Dean, look—beautiful, living plants.” You glanced back over at the professor, letting out a sigh as you took a step backward. ‘Were leaving. I’m so sorry about this.”

“I’m calling the police.” The man threatened again.

Dean managed to get his arm free from your petty grip, you gritted your teeth and stalked behind the man, shouting out his name, following him like his own shadow. You had left Sam with the professor, you would feel guilty about that later, but you were too focused on the other brother that was acting like a child. “Sir, we’re sorry.” Sam apologized, stepping behind as he tried to keep up with the two of you. “We won’t bother you again.”

You weren’t in a bad mood when you had gotten here, but as you were leaving, you were ready to start a fight with Dean. You walked as fast as you could to keep up with the man, but it seemed that he just walked a little bit faster when he saw you come in his vision again.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” You questioned, stomping down the porch steps, taking the railing for steadiness so you wouldn’t lose your footing.

“Back off.” Dean mumbled, you let out a loud scoff.

“That man is innocent.” You said, pointing a finger towards the home as all of you continued walking down the sidewalk. “He didn’t deserve that.” 

“So she’s not here.” Dean said, turning his head when you had managed to catch up with him for just a moment. “Maybe he’s keeping her somewhere else.”

“Stop it!” Sam, being the tallest of all of you, had no problem catching up to his brother. He tried his hardest to get the other man to calm down as they went pacing down the road. Even you couldn’t keep up with them, your legs not seeming long enough compared to theirs as you started to trail behind. “That’s enough, okay? Enough!’

“Sam, I know what I’m doing.” Dean said, trying to get his brother to lay off.

“No, you don’t, at all.“ Sam said, the other brother let out a sarcastic laugh before smiling at the concern. “I don’t scare easy, but man, you’re scaring the crap out of me.”

“Don’t be over dramatic, Sam.”

“You’re lucky this turned out to be a real case,” You spoke up again, stopping in your tracks when Dean had finally decided to stop himself. “because if it wasn’t, you would have found something else to kill.” You watched as his face stretched into confusion, you glanced over at Sam before deciding to continue. “You’re on edge, you’re erratic, except when you’re hunting, and Sam’s right on this one. You get downright scary. You’re tail spinning, Dean, and you refuse to talk about it, and you won’t let us help you. And here I thought we talked about this.”

“I can take care of myself, thanks.” Dean said, you clenched your jaw as you watched him continue on walking, as if what you or Sam had said had no effect on him. You still wouldn’t give up as you followed behind him again.

“No, you can’t! And you’re the only one who thinks you should have to.” Sam continued to try helping you get the brother to crack as all of you walked again. “You don’t have to handle this on your own. No one can.”

“If you bring up Dad’s death one more time—” Dean threatened, you watched as his fist started to rise, knowing that it wasn’t a good sign, you quickly stepped in front of the boys. You placed a hand on his chest to stop him from harming his brother again.

“Dean, it’s killing you. Please.” You said, giving him a pleading look to stop and listen for once. He didn’t seem to like the it, but you watch as he let out a quiet sigh, and for the first time this morning, kept quiet. “You’ve already lost your dad. You lost your mom. Your brother lossed Jessica. I lost my parents. And now Sammy and I are gonna lose you, too?”

Dean was still silent when you stared at him, wondering what he was thinking. But whatever it was, he dodged it as he took a quick sweep of the area. “We better get out of here before the cops come.” Dean said, but you and Sam gave him the same concerned looks. “I hear you two, okay? I’m being an ass, and I’m sorry.“ You rolled your eyes, knowing he was being much worse. “But we got a freakin’ zombie running around. We need to figure out how to kill it.”

Zombies. You couldn’t help yourself but chuckle with the youngest Winchester. Sometimes this hunting gig got a little bit too weird for you. You rubbed your hands over your face, still stressed from the research that laid ahead for the two of you. “RIght?” Dean asked, making sure that neither of you had lost focus on the conversation.

“Our lives are weird, man.” Sam mumbled, you couldn’t help yourself but laugh again.

“You’re telling me. Now come on.” Dean said starting to walk ahead and back towards the car. You and Sam followed behind a few moments later, knowing the fun was just getting started.

Countless web researches made you feel like your head was about to explode from the reading that you had done in the past few hours alone from browsing the internet alone for what you could find on the walking dead. Sam had busied himself with going through the journal again to see if there was any more information that could help lead all of you towards what you could do to get this zombie back where it belonged. And that was six feet under the ground.

You slammed your laptop in frustration, having your patience being tested for too long from the ridiculous information that you were finding. Never during your time of research had you found so much on one creature, alone. Some might think it would have been a blessing for all of this knowledge, it only made you grow with anger.

“Who knew there was so much useless knowledge on these things.” You mumbled, swinging your legs over the bed so you were now sitting at the edge. Rubbing your temples to keep your headache from becoming any worse, you had hoped Sam had found something in the journal to help wrap up this case and put it to bed. “Every zombie movie that we’ve seen seems like a lie from what I read.”

“We can’t just waste her with a headshot?” Dean asked, you glanced over at Sam with disbelief as he just rolled his eyes at his brother’s question.

“Dude, you’ve been watching way too many Romero flicks.” Sam said, watching as the oldest WInchester walked until he stopped at the motel door. He turned around and gave both of you a look, as if you weren’t trying hard enough to figure out how to wrap up this hunt.

“You’re telling there’s no lore on how to smoke them?” Dean questioned, taking a few steps more over until he was just a foot away from the beds.

“No, we’re telling you there’s too much.” You corrected him. “There’s a hundred different legends no the walking dead, but they all have different methods for killing them.”

“Some say setting them on fire.” Sam started listing off the ones that he just found the journal alone, getting up from his bed and heading over towards the small table that Dean dropped himself next to. You walked over a few seconds later, crossing your arms over your chest and standing behind Sam, reading the material again that you had discussed a while ago. “One said—where is it?” He flipped through the pages until he found the one that you and him had found a bit too amusing, knowing it probably wasn’t true. “Right here—feeding their hearts to wild dogs. That’s my personal favorite. But who knows what’s real and what’s myth?” Sam said, throwing the journal down in frustration.

“Is there anything they have in common?” Dean asked.

“No,” You mumbled. “But a few said silver might work.”

“SIlver’s a start.” Dean pointed out, you shrugged your shoulders, still not feeling very optimistic about this plan working out.

“But now how are we going to find Angela?” Sam asked, knowing she was the most important part of figuring out how to solve this little problem.

“We got to figure out who brought her back.” Dean said.

“Any ideas?” You asked, looking over at the two brothers.

Everyone was quiet for a few moment before you watched as Dean uncrossed his legs and got up from the chair again. “I think if it’s not her dad, it might be that guy, Neal.” Dean suggested, your face scrunched up, watching as the man headed over towards his jacket that was discarded on the bed that you had been previously sitting on.

“Neal?” You asked. Dean mumbled a yeah as he pulled out the familiar pink journal that seemed to have been rather interested in since he found it. “How did you come up with that?”

“Well, you got your journal, I got mine.” Dean mumbled, opening up the small book and flipping through the pages until he found the entry that he had been looking for. “’Neal’s a real shoulder to cry on. He’s so understands what I’m going through with Matt.’” You rolled your eyes, knowing too well that this was the type of guy that was probably head over heels for his best friend like you had suspected, and would do anything to get her back. “There’s more here where that came from. It’s got unrequited duckie love written all over it.”

“But that doesn’t mean be brought her back from the dead.” Sam said, still a bit skeptic.

“Hmm, did I mention that he’s Professor Mason’s T.A.?” Dean asked. “Has access to all the same books.”

You walked over towards the chair that the man was previously sitting in, you dropped your body into the seat and let out a quiet laugh, still finding this entire situation creepy. “I mean, there’s a lot we would do for people we love, but—ew.” You mumbled. Your nose crinkled up when a not so pleasant thought crossed your mind. “Do you think he would…you know?” It took them a moment to get what you were hinting at before you heard their responses.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Why would you say something like that?”

“That’s just gross. Thanks for the freaking imagine.”

You couldn’t help yourself but laugh, rolling our eyes at their sudden prudish behavior at the thought of a possible chance there was necrophilia in the mix of this already twisted case. “I just said it, I didn’t make you connect the dots.” You mumbled, a smirk spreading across your lips as you leaned yourself back in your seat.

You and the brothers arrived back to Neal’s house right after night had fallen, hoping that neither one of them weren’t around so the three of you could do some digging, not really wanting to relive the same scenario that happened back with Angela’s roommate. The front door swung open without a problem, but as you stepped inside after the boys, you had noticed the lack of lights were on and nobody seemed to have come forward after Dean shouted a hello. Of course, it wasn’t long before a failed attempt at keeping the cover you had told Neal from before if he happened to be around.

“Neal! It’s your grief counselors.” Dean shouted,his voice echoing as you turned your head around to see if there was anyone around. But you whipped it back when the other man decided to be funny. “We’ve come to hug.” You rolled your eyes, but Dean seemed to have done something right, pulling out his gun from the back and made us it was ready, just in case the girl was around.

“Silver bullets?”Sam asked, keeping his tone quiet enough for only the three of you to hear.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, “enough to make her rattle like a change purse.”

In a single file with Dean leading; you trailed behind the brothers as they started heading deeper into the office. You looked around each corner to make sure there was nobody hiding around. As all of you continued walking around, the evidence that Angela was around here had became more prominent from the dying plants. And if that wasn’t enough, you turned around when the other two had stopped walk, quickly noticing a wooden wooden with a rather tough looking lock. You glanced over at the brothers, wondering if this could be where Neal was keeping his undead friend.

“Unless it’s where he keeps is porn.” Dean whispered, raising up an eyebrow for effect. Sam looked at his brother with annoyance and you rolled your eyes again. 

“Just open it. Or I’m gonna throw you down the stairs and use you two as bait.” You threatened, tossing the Winchesters a glare, stepping back for them to see what was down there first.

Sam reached over and pulled on the lock back before swinging it open, the sound was loud enough to echo throughout the house, you had hoped whatever was down there didn’t hear it. Dean was first again to step down and take a sweep to see if there was anyone around, you headed down the steps next before Sam trailed behind, making sure that nobody was coming around. All of you headed down the staircase to see a basement that would be fit for hiding someone; a bed was just just a few feet from the staircase and the place was wide enough to keep someone in a spot that you didn’t want to lose track of.

“It sure looks like a zombie pen to me.” Dean said, lowering his gun when he saw no one around.

“Yeah.” Sam said, heading deeper inside the place, now having to hunch down slightly to keep himself from banging his head against the lowered ceilings. “An empty one. You think Angela’s gone after somebody?”

You looked around a bit further to see if you could spot her hiding in all this garbage, but you turned your head when you heard the sounds of something squeaking. You had saw an opening from an air vent that was just big enough for someone your size to squeeze through without a problem. “No, I think she went out to rent ‘Beaches.’” Dean kept up with the sarcastic comments, but it seemed that this brother had enough of it.

“Look, smart ass.” Sam said, heading back over towards the other man. “She might kill someone. We got to find her, Dean.”

“All right, she killed Matt because he was cheating, right?” You asked, having a feeling who was going to be her next victim on the list. The brothers nodded their heads. “Well, it takes two to, you know—”

“Have hard-core sex.” Dean said, a small smirk curled at the ends of his lips.

“Thank you for clarifying, pervert.” You mumbled, giving him another glare as his brother scrunched up his face from the unwanted comment. “As I was saying, it seemed that Angela’s roommate was a bit too broken up over Matt’s death when I talked to her. I mean, like really broken up. Kind of like they shared a closer relationship than we realized.”

Zombies. They sure as hell were becoming a pain in the ass.

It seemed that you had been right about where Angela was headed; you had been just outside the front door when you heard screams and just a few seconds later gunshots coming from inside. You had thought that all of this would have been solved and put to bed, but as you turned your head just the slightest, you quickly caught the blurry vision of a familiar girl that you had been hunting for and Dean trailing behind, but not fast enough for him to keep up with her. Sometimes you wondered how any of you even got this far with hunting with recurring bad luck like this. They had one job.

After making sure that Lindsay was okay from the near fatal attack, all of you headed back to the Impala having a feeling of where Angela could be heading next. You sat in the backseat again as you went back towards the journal to see if there was any more ideas of how to kill this zombie once and for all.

“So, the silver bullets, they did something, right?” Sam asked, looking over at his brother while his father’s journal was resting in his lap again.

“Yeah, something, but not enough.” Dean said. “What else you got?”

“Um, okay, besides silver,” Sam said, turning the page before he began reading off the information written on the page. “We have ‘nailing the undead back into their grave beds.’ It’s mentioned a few times. It’s probably where the whole vampire staking lore came from.”

“Grave beds?” Dean asked, looking at his brother. Sam nodded his head. “You serious?”

“How the hell are we gonna get Angela back to the cemetery?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, but neither of the brothers seemed to have a good answer. A sigh escaped your lips, as if things couldn’t have gotten any harder for the three of you.

Like you had hoped, Neal was sitting inside the office when all of you arrived a short while later from the other house. He turned his head when he heard the door open, but you watched as his face dropped when he realized it was the three of you. “What are you guys doing here?” He asked, dropping his pencil toward the desk.

“You know, I’ve heard of some people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you,” Dean dodged the man’s questions as he headed further into the room. He clicked his tongue for effort as he pointed a finger at him. “You take the cake.”

“Okay, who are you guys?” Neal asked, seeming that he wasn’t buying the cover anymore.

“You might want to ask Angela that question.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?” Neal continued to pretend he had no idea what was going on, but none of you were fooled by his horrible attempts at trying to avoid what he had done that ended in horrible consequences for two people.

“We know what you did.” Sam said, staring at the man across from him. “The ritual…everything.”

“You’re crazy.” Neal scoffed out, letting a small smile spread across his lips.

“Your girlfriend’s past her expiration date, and we’re crazy?” Dean asked, raising up an eyebrow as he leaned down towards the desk so he was at eye level with the other man. “When someone’s gone, they should stay gone. You don’t mess with that kinda stuff.”

“Angela killed Matt.” You said. “Hell, she tried to kill Lindsay not that long ago.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Neal mumbled, you glanced over at Dean, having enough with the lies that never seemed to have an ending.

Dean pushed himself off the desk and headed over towards the other side, grabbing the small man by the collar of his shirt and yanking him out of his chair. “Hey, no more crap, Neal! This blood is on your hands.” Dean hissed out. “Now, me and them, can make this right, but you got to tell us where she is.” Neal looked down towards the ground for just a split second, but Dean shook him to get the man to focus again. “Tell us!”

“My house.” Neal manages to stutter out. “She’s at my house.”

Dean let out of the man, seeming satisfied with the answer. As he let him go, you happened to turn your head just fast enough to catch the glimpse of dying plants that were hidden behind the desk. You looked at the man,giving him a serious look. “You sure about that?” He nodded his head, but the feeling that he was still lying sat in your mind. You averted your eyes towards the door was opened just the slightest crack, you glanced back over at the man, knowing you had someone listening in on the conversation.

“Listen. It doesn’t really matter where she is. There’s only one way to stop her. We’ve got to perform another ritual over her grave to reverse the one that you did.” Dean said, heading back over to you and Sam as he started lying about what needed to be done in order to scare Neal for the truth. “We’re going to need some black roots, some scar weed, some candles. It’s very complicated, but it will get the job done. She’ll be dead again in a couple of hours.”

“I think should come with us.” You said, cutting off the other man. Neal stared at the three of you for a few moments not sure what to do. So you kept pressing for him to do the right thing. “I’m serious, Neal. Leave with us right now.”

“No.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he averted his gaze toward the ground. “No.”

You cleared your throat, not being the one to give up so easily.You took a step forward and leaned over towards him, you dropped your voice so he could only hear you. “Listen to me. Get out of here as soon as you can.” You warned him. “But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements.” You glanced over at the door before back at him. “And don’t make her mad.”

With that warning being placed; you turned around and headed for the front door, hoping what all of you had said towards the man would be good enough for him to do the right thing before there would be another body added towards the list.

When you arrived back at the cemetery, you were surprised to see that the grave was still the way that you and the brothers had left after digging up just the other night without anyone suspecting something strange was happening. Well, this kind of strange, anyway. You dropped the bag of candles that you had managed to find after nearly tearing apart Dean’s endless stash of guns and other sorts of weapons he had hidden away in there. All of you wasted no time in getting down to business and starting this bogus ritual that the oldest Winchester had said would work. You laid the candles out at each side of the grave, and each brother took their lighter and began to make sure each wick was burning.

“You really think this is gonna work?” Sam asked, breaking the small silence that had fallen between the three of you while they continued working.

“No, not really.” Dean admitted. You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head at how honest he was being about the situation. So much for keeping up the hope. He picked up another candle and pressed it towards the lighter. “But it was the only thing I could come up with.”

But the mood in the air quickly shifted around when a twig snapping in the woods that were just a ways from the cemetery. All heads turned, wondering if the guest of honor was lurking around somewhere, waiting for the right moment to attack. A long silence fell again; Sam turned his head away from the trees to look at Dean, who gave his brother a nod. You felt the cold metal press in your skin, remembering the warning to only use it in emergency, as you slowly got up from the ground, knowing it was time to get the real plan in motion before she could realize what was going on. You heard the click of Sam’s gun to make sure it was ready before he went off to lure out the zombie.

You wandered around in the dead of night, trying your hardest not to trip over a headstone that was lowered than you had tried to remember or bang your knee into one of them. You tried your hardest to be quiet in order to get this job done. Since you had never dealt with a zombie before and you weren’t quite as fast as the brothers, you were going to be back up, in the worst case scenario this girl ended up being more alive than any of you thought. Then, you were gonna have some fun and show her what you were made of.

A gunshot echoed through the air, you quickly jumped up from your spot in curiosity to wonder what was going on. It was another few moments before you heard the sounds of multiple footsteps coming towards the empty grave, faster than you thought. You caught sight of Sam’s blurry figure that was running at a pace that made it known Angela wasn’t coming willingly. She was running at a faster pace than you had thought a dead girl could do. A streak of anger rushed through you when you saw her coming in close and—she grabbed ahold of Sam by the back of his jacket and he tripped, falling towards the ground. An eerily familiar cracking sound was heard, all before you were on your feet again, your target locked in place when you saw her wrap her dead hands around his head and chin, as if she was going to break his neck.

You went in at a fast pace, and in the darkness, you were surprised that Dean didn’t take his shot, but you felt yourself hitting the ground when you threw yourself against Angela, knocking her off Sam before she could anymore damage that could be permanent. But this girl had some advantage when you and her rolled around in the grass until you felt her cold hands wrap around your neck, cutting off the air. She was making you her next target. All though, you knew it wouldn’t last long when you heard another gun shot ring through the air and she was rolling off your boy fromt the force that hit her. She stumbled around in she was back on her feet, and more pissed off than ever. You heard three more gunshots before her body dropped into her coffin And Dean didn’t hesitate a single moment.

He shoved his gun back into the back of his jeans and bolted for the grave with a metal rod in his hand, you watched as quickly turned from a blurry figure to nothing when slid on the edge of the grave and jumped inside. You turned towards your side to look at Sam, who was now lying on his backside, clutching his wrist. You winced when you noticed that she must have hurt his hand. You rolled over and got yourself up, heading over towards the youngest Winchester until you were nearly hovering over him, mumbling out questions if he was okay.

You almost forgot about the other brother until you heard the sounds of heavy breathing and a hand popping out from the grave caught your attention. When you saw Dean come back up in one shape it was enough evidence to make it known that Angela was finally dead and gone, like how she should have been in the first place.

Dawn was peaking through and the sky was turning a blend of blues and yellows when the brothers finished burying the grave back, as if none of this had happened. They patted the dirt down to make it look smooth with the back of the shovel before the job was done. You let out a quiet sigh from this trip, not exactly picturing how this hunt had gone from visiting your dead parents to having a loose zombie on your hands. Nothing happened quite as you wanted it.

“Rest in peace.” You heard Sam mumble towards the grave, hoping she would have found comfort in her new life on the other side.

“Yeah, for good this time, okay?” Dean asked, not quite wanted to come back in this was going to backfire and head towards another case. You shook your head, turning around and heading for the car. The faster you got out here, the better.

“You know, the whole fake-ritual thing,” You said, looking at the older Winchester as they walked in sync with you. “Luring Angela into the cemetary—pretty sharp.”

“Thanks.” He said, a small smile, that was barely noticeable, tugged at the end of his lips.

“But did we have to use me as bait?” Sam asked his brother, still not sure why he was used as the prey 

“I figured you were more her type, you know? She has pretty crappy taste in guys.” Dean remarked, you couldn’t help yourself but force yourself not to laugh as you playfully smacked the man in the arm from his comment.

“I think she broke my hand.” Sam mumbled, finally admitting he injury as he held his wrist that was still holding the shovel as all of you headed back towards the car.

“You’re just too fragile.” Dean chuckled out, still finding the situation amusing.

You rolled your eyes, heading over towards Sam and looked at the bruised skin that didn’t seem as worse than you that thought it was., but there was something that cracked. “We’ll get it looked at later. You’ll live.” You said, walking again for another moment, until you noticed that Dean has stopped in his spot to look at something.

You turned your head to see him staring at his mother’s grave, a sullen look was beginning to spread across his face. Your eyes wandered around until you found yourself staring at Sam, wondering what the right thing to do was. He gave you a look, the kind that made it known that he didn’t know what to do, either.

“You wanna stay a while?” Sasm asked, wondering if his brother wanted that time to reflect on everything after all. It was a few moments of him just staring the grave before he answered.

“No.”

You didn’t know why you were expecting to hear a different answer from him. You and Sam trailed behind until you made it back towards the Impala. The brothers threw the shoves back into the truck along with their coat, you jumped inside the backseat and let out a sigh of relief, happy to have another hunt wrapped up.

Long, quiet car rides always seemed to have bothered you. There was no rock music playing like always to fill up the silence that seemed to have drove your brain with questions, wondering if there was something wrong that you couldn’t quite figure out. Sam was sitting in the passenger’s seat side with neutral facial expressions, nothing to tip you off towards making you think that something was wrong. Dean was focused on the road, still, he made you wonder if there was something going on that he wasn’t telling you or his brother.

As you began to lose focus in the matter, you watched the forest of trees pass you by, all for a moment before you felt the car slowly jerk off towards the right side of the road before you pulled up towards the side and stopped all together. You and Sam began to give one another peculiar glances when you saw Dean get out from the car without saying a single word to either one of you to explain what was going on. The both of you quickly jumped out of the car and headed over towards the man that was now leaning against the hood of the car, staring off into the empty highway that seemed to stretch on for miles.

“Dean, what is it?” Sam asked, his voice was full of concern for his brother, not sure what had gotten the man in this kind of mood. Whenever this happened, you knew it wasn’t a good sign.

There was a long, terrible pause between the conversation until you heard Dean mumble out something that neither one of you were expecting. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You asked him, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“The way I’ve been acting.” Dean said. He almost broke his concentration from the ground, but hesitated for a moment, deciding that keeping silent was good enough for now. You walked over until you were sitting on the hood next to him, Sam following behind so he was on your left. All of you stared at the scenery for a few seconds, beginning to find comfort in the silence, until Dean spoke up once more. “And for Dad. Well,” He swallowed slightly before making himself continue speaking. “He was your dad, too. Always been one to Y/N. It’s my fault that he’s gone.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, shaking his head in bewilderment.

“I know you guys have been thinking it. So have I. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.” Dean said, you felt yourself begin to feel rather guilty when he began to further explain, knowing that you or Sam weren’t going to fess up. “Back at the hospital, I had a full recovery. It was miracle. And five minutes later, Dad’s dead, and the colt’s gone.”

“Dean—”

“You can’t tell me there’s not a connection there.” Dean mumbled, cutting you off from speaking. “I don’t know how the demon was involved. I don’t know how exactly the thing went down exactly,” He had to force himself to stop before he did something he would regret, even though the words that he was about to speak made him want to do it. “But Dad’s dead because of me. And that much I do know.”

“We don’t know that,” Sam tried to reassure his brother. “Not for sure.”

“Sam,” Dean cut his brother off, “You, Dad and Y/N,” He forced himself let out a small, pitiful chuckle that he hoped would have made him feel better. But you knew it didn’t. “You’re the most important people in my life. And now,” He dropped silent again, too many emotions clouding his mind, but there was one thing he was sure of. “I never should have come back. It wasn’t natural. And now look what’s come of it.”

You blinked a few times, trying your hardest not to let the tears that threatened to fall show through. Dean’s voice had been lined with so much hate. “I was dead.” He hissed from underneath his breath. “And I should have stayed dead.” You could see his eyes were glazed over from the reflection of the sunlight. “You two wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that’s it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hard enough to draw blood, you winced at the taste of the iron that danced around the edge of your tongue, hoping it would be enough to distract you from everything that was going on. “So tell me.” You and Sam forced yourselves to look at Dean, wondering what he was going to say next. “What could either one of you possibly say to make that all right?”

It was a rare occasion to have seen Dean at this crippling state of vulnerability. You really didn’t know what you could have said that would have made this all right. There was nothing you or his brother could do that would make any of this all right but sit in the pile of questions that would surely make you go insane.

Your fingertips danced around the cold metal hood until you felt them wrap around the brothers’ hands, you gave a firm squeeze, reminding the both of them that all of you were still here. You needed to remind them that they weren’t alone in this situation like they feared from time to time. Because in this lifestyle, it was easy to end up alone.


	5. Simon Said.

“You can’t just barge in there!”

“Watch me.”

“There’s such thing as privacy, Y/N.”

“He’s been in there for fifteen minutes. Nobody takes that long to go the bathroom.”

You pounded your fist against the bathroom door of some creepy, rundown gas station that was giving you all the wrong kind of creeps when you noticed a strange colored mold growing out from the cracks in the walls and graffiti you didn’t bother to make sense of. Your frustration could be heard from the banging that began to grow louder which each second that Sam was ignoring you. A few moments passed by until you finally decided to do it. You wrapped your hand around the doorknob and twisted it, getting ready for whatever the youngest brother was doing in there.

“Come on, Sam, zip it up, Let’s hit the—” You swung open the door, but stopped from what you were saying from what you saw. He was leaning over the grimy sink, out of breath, like how he would look like if he had a sudden burst of pain that wouldn’t go away, kind of like the migraines you even got yourself on rare occasions. But never did you have the same side effects as he did. A bad feeling began to sit in your stomach when you realized what was happening again. “Road.” You mumbled out the last part, but speaking to what felt like yourself now.

“What?” Dean asked, hovering over you now to see what was taking so long; but it didn’t take much thought to see that his brother was hunched over in pain, hair was matted down from running water over his face. You and the oldest brother looked at one another for a few moments before slowly closing it, giving Sam a few moments to collect himself. You leaned yourself against the wall and let out a sigh. As if you had enough problems to deal with—Sam, the psychic boy wonder, was at it again.

You were all back in the car, you in the backseat with your attention on the youngest brother, who seemed to have pitched the idea that he was having another vision and need help from Ash, just to be safe. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching as the bickering between the two brothers never seemed to have ended. While you weren’t sure who was right, you kept yourself quiet, knowing very well that the demon was involved in this sort of mess. It always was.

“I don’t know man.” Dean said, still not coming round towards the idea. “Why don’t we just chill out, think about this?”

Sam reached out a hand and turned off the radio, letting the car go silent for just a moment before speaking up again. “What is there to think about?” Sam questioned, he gave his brother a look, wondering what was making him so turned off about the suggestion. This could be a chance to find out if the demon is out and about, again.

“I just don’t know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea.” Dean said.

“Dean, it’s another premonition. I know it.” Sam declared. His brother took his gaze away from the road to look at the man for a few moments, you caught sight of his disbelief look. “This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where.” But before Dean could continue shooting down the idea, Sam cut him off. “Plus it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do.”

“That’s my point. There’s gonna be hunters there.” Dean said, acting as if it was hunting season and his little brother was the target everyone was searching for. “I don’t know if—if going in and announcing that you’re some supernatural freak with a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?”

“So I’m a freak now?” Sam asked, you could feel the hurt in his voice.

You leaned over in your seat and patted him on the shoulder, a smile spreading across your lips, trying to keep them from arguing again. “You’ve always been a freak, Sammy. And brother’s always been a jerk.” You said, slowly turning your gaze towards the other man. Dean flashed an innocent smile, letting himself focus back on the road again as you dropped yourself back into your seat. The car ride towards the Roadhouse was nothing more than silence.

You all arrived at the bar not long after setting off for the road; you stepped inside to see that the place was booming with customers, and by the looks that everyone was giving you three, they seemed to have been hunters. You passed a dirty glare towards two men that were sitting at the table that was just in the way that you were walking, you didn’t seem too intimidated by the large knife that one of them was twirling around on a map that was spread across the table. You kept walking around until you caught sight of a familiar blonde, you broke out into a smile and headed up towards Jo, who was counting out some money, probably tips from the tables she was busting to help out her mother.

“Hey, Jo.” Was all you could manage to get out before you felt a gust of wind hitting your backside and a tall, lingering presence looming over you. You twisted your neck up to see Sam, who looked to have not been in the mood for formal greetings, he had other things on his mind, though.

“Where’s Ash?” Sam asked, his tone rushed out.

“In his back room.” Jo answered, eyes following the man as he mumbled out a great before heading straight for the genius. “And I’m fine.” She mumbled, slowly turning her attention back towards you and the other brother.

“Sorry.”He’s—we’re a kind of a bit of timetable. Uh, it was nice chatting, but I gotta…go.” You bit your bottom lip, forcing another smile before you left her with the other Winchester. You would have loved to sit and chat with someone that’s last name wasn’t Winchester, but you had a few other things on your mind that were a bit more important right now. And it seemed that the way Sam was acting, he was about ready to rip off the door from the lack of attention he was getting.

You tilted your head to the side when you read the wooden nameplate that was nailed towards the door you and Sam were standing behind. Dr. Badass is: In. Suddenly you had an idea of how to get the other man’s attention. You headed up towards the door and knocked on it, glancing over at Sam with a small smirk spreading across your lips when he gave you a look of annoyance, mostly from the man that didn’t want to be bothered. But Sam was doing it all wrong. 

“Hey, Dr. Badass?” You called out while knocking on the door, shrugging your shoulders when the man gave you a look of disbelief, but it seemed to have worked. You heard the lock latch back and the door open a crack. “Ash, fina—Oh my, God!” You immediately closed your eyes and looked away, not happy to notice that he wasn’t in the mood for clothes tonight.

“Sam. Y/N. Dean.” Ash called out, seeing the three of you were hovering round the door. He took a few breaths of your scents, you gave Dean a confused look at what was happening, still not wanting to make eye contact with the other. “Sam, Dean and Y/N.”

“Hey, Ash, um,” Sam made himself turn around to look at the other man, suddenly happy that he was the tallest one in the room. “We need your help.”

“Hell, then, guess I need my pants.” Ash mumbled. You could just hear the smile in his voice, you shook your head in annoyance, wondering why men had such terrible habits.

It was another few minutes before the genius emerged from his room with clothes on this time; you and the brothers were now lingering around a table that was in the back, away from all the crowd of hunters. Giving little to no explanation of what was going on, Sam handed over a napkin he was doodling on, saying it must have been a logo from his vision that he had, neither of you knew where it could be or where you would start looking. Ash cracked his knuckles and got himself typing away on his laptop, doing a bit of research before finding a result.

“So, I got a match.” Ash said. You looked away from the empty corner of the bar to see what the man that was sitting across from you had found. “It’s the logo for the Blue Ridge Bus Lines. Guthrie, Oklahoma.”

“Okay. Do me a favor.” Sam said, trying to get the suspicion that he had been itching to solve out of the way. “Check Guthrie for any demonic signs or omens or anything like that.”

“You think the demon is there?” Ash asked. You shifted around in your seat, glancing over at Sam, the both of you made eye contact for a few moments.

“Yeah.” Sam muttered, ripping his gaze away from you and looking over at the other man for just a second. “Maybe.”

“Why would you think that?” Ash continued to ask questions that none of you were in the mood for to answer when there were still so many of your own.

“Just check, all right?” Dean dodged the man’s question with another, he pushed himself off the wall and leaned over the one sitting down for a moment. He gave a blank stare to Ash when the man turned to look over his shoulder, but after that moment, you heard the familiar clicks of the keyboard going until you heard the answer you weren’t quite happy to hear.

“No, sir. Nothing. No demon.”

“All right. Try something else for me.” Sam said, fidging around with his good hand. This time, he was digging a bit more personal and adding small details that were going to raise a few eyebrows. “Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983. Fire’s origin would be a baby’s nursery, night the kid’s six-month birthday.”

Ash turned his attention away from the laptop screen to gave the youngest brother a look, the kind of look that made it known he was curious to know more. He was going to be asking all sorts of questions. You turned your head slightly to see that Jo, who had been hovering over the four of you, stopped washing one of the tables to stare at Sam, obviously all of this beginning to interest her even more from her eavesdropping that she thought you wouldn’t notice. You let out a sigh, so much for being discreet about details.

“Okay, now, that’s ju weird, man.” Ash started with his opinion. He placed his elbows on the table and began to wave his arms around slightly. “Why the hell would I be looking for that?”

Unlike the brothers and their tactics , you had a bit of a motivator to dangle in the man’s face. You grabbed the cold beer bottle that was lingering around on the table and slammed it so it was now just a few inches from where he was sitting. You raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was going to keep up with the attitude. “Because there’s a PBR in it for you.” You said, a small smirk spreading across your lips when you decided to play with him. “Unless, you keep asking questions. Then it’s all mine.”

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

You leaned back in your seat and glanced over at the clock, counting down the time until you found the other little freak that Sam was connected towards. of course, it was only a few minutes before Dean decided to excuse himself, heading over towards the bar for a drink. You stayed put with the other brother, knowing that Sam looked like he was about to jump out of his seat while waiting for the answer that he desperately had been looking for. You watched from the corner of your eye as his knee kept going up and down, bouncing around as his hands were fidgeting around. You were beginning to grow adjusted just from his actions.

“Sam. Hellooo, Sammy.” You said, trying to catch the man’s attention. But he kept staring off into space, ignoring your attempts to break him from his anxiety trip. You tried again, in a louder tone this time, but still, nothing. “Earth to Sasquatch!” You called out his infamous nickname that you had made up months ago, still not sure why you still called him that. But it always made you feel a bit more at ease, you could even see Sam had stopped twitching for the moment. You felt two eyes on you; you nodded your head for Ash continue the research before you gave Sam a smile. “How are you…feeling?”

You knew it probably wasn’t the best time to be asking these sort of questions when there was a room full of people that hunted things that looked even slightly off. But you had been worried about the man. Whenever he had one of these visions, it always took so much out on him, Mentally and psychically. A concern began to grow, because like the other times that this had happened, it never ended well for someone. You just hoped all of you were quick enough before this premonition could come true and an innocent man was dead.

Before Sam could answer your question, you and him turned your heads when Ash declared he had found someone that matched the pattern. A smile spread across your lips, that was the best news you had heard all night. You gathered the information from the man and shoved it into a folder, thanking the genius for his work and leaving the cold beer for him to enjoy.

You headed over towards the bar and leaned yourself over the wooden edge, giving Jo a small smile before looking over at Dean to explain the details, Sam was too busy eating up the information and heading for the car. “We have a match.” You mumbled, hoping your tone was low enough for him to hear. But you could feel Jo’s lingering eyes, you were beginning to quickly notice she was quite a curious girl. “We got to go before Sam hotwires the Impala and leaves.”

“Alright, Jo,” Dean got up from his chair and followed in your lead towards the front door, “see you later.” You quickly shouted a goodbye towards the blonde before stepping outside into the night air, eager to start another hunt.

Your lips were wrapped around the end of a small flashlight that you kept in the back for the times that you overlooked notes and documents for research late at night. You had at least a handful of papers in your lap that needed your attention while Sam overlooked the information that Ash pulled on the mysterious man. But you kept looking up every so often, your mind starting to grow more interested in the song that Dean was mindlessly singing, the lyrics were so hauntingly familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. When it clicked, you dropped the papers that were in your hand down into your lap and pulled out the flashlight, rolling your eyes. Of course.

“You’re kidding, right?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, giving the man a look. “My mom used to play that song all the time and it annoys the shit of me. Do you mind?”

“I heard the song somewhere.” Dean mumbled, trying to act as if he was getting into it. You knew well enough it was the song that Jo had put on from earlier while the two of them were speaking. A small smirk of amusement began to spread across your lips as he still denied it. “I can’t get it out of my head. I don’t know. What do you got?” 

Sam still seemed to have found the situation a little too amusing, keeping himself quiet for a moment before pulling up the paper that had a driver’s licence printed out. “Andrew Gallagher. Born in ‘83, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me.”

“You think the demon killed his mom?” You asked, knowing all the evidence that you and him had been reading was beginning to look like the same exact pattern from the others that you had met during this trip.

“Sure looks like it.” Sam said.

“How did you know to look for this guy?” Dean asked, looking away from the road for a moment to glance over at his brother, wondering the answer that burned in the back of his mind.

“Every premonition I’ve had, if they’re not about the demon, they’re about the other kids the demon visited.” Sam explained. You shifted around in your seat, hating to think about that yellow eyed freak and his words that never left your mind. “Like Max Miller. Remember him?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “But Max Miller was a basic little psycho.”

“Point is he was killing people, and I was having the same type of visions about him.” Sam said, you could hear the concern growing his voice as he continued talking. “And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy.”

“How do we find him?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“I don’t know. No current address, no current employment.” Sam explained, and with more infomation that you were getting on this Andrew guy, you felt your face beginning to scrunch up in confusion. “Still owes money on all of his bills—phone, credit, utilities.”

“Collection agency flags?” Dean asked, trying to see if there was a way to track him that way.

“Not in the system.” Sam simply said.

“They just let him take a walk?” You asked, an eyebrow arched up.

“Seems like it. There’s a work address from this last W-2 about a year ago. Let’s start there.” Sam suggested, seeming there was not many options to track this man down. You had just hoped this was the right path that would lead towards finding more about this man.

You crossed your legs over, smiling politely at the woman who was in charge of running this little diner you and the brothers were currently sitting in. Tugging a bit more on your dress you had shoved all the way back in your duffel bag, you thought it was only appropriate to dress the part of whatever phony career Dean made up today. How were you going to lure out a man that seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth? Promising him money, of course. And lots of it.

You had dug more into this Andy guy after finding a decent motel in the area and calling it a night. This guy had a huge amount of debt that even you were a little bit overwhelmed when you looked at that number, countless times of threatened to have been evicted from his apartment, and so many things that should have been making collecting agencies hunting him down and demanding payment. But there was nothing. It was like he was given a pat on the back and let go—enjoy to live life.

“You won’t get anything out of Andy, guys. I’m sorry.” Tracy said. She was the owner of the diner that you had decided to check out,the last job that Andy kept before vanishing from sight. She lifted up the coffee pot and began walking the other side of the table so she could quickly pour someone else’s cup before turning her full attention towards the three of you. “But they never do.”

“‘They’?” You curiously asked, wondering who she was referring to. By how she was speaking, it seemed that Andy was a pretty popular man, after all.

“You’re debt collector's, right? They come around here every once in awhile.” She said, seeming as if it was all ordinary. Business was business. She probably got more profit from the unexpected company from collectors because of this guy. Hunting down a man with a serious some of debt had to make someone hungry for lunch. “I don’t know what Andy says to them, but they seem to never come back.”

“Actually we’re lawyers,” Dean explained, his hand resting on the manilla folder that held only blank pieces of paper. “Representing his great-aunt Lita. She passed—God rest her soul—and left Andy a sizable amount of estate.”

“Yeah.” Sam said, looking around from his brother so he could focus back on the woman to continue this quest to find more answers about this guy. “So, are you a friend of his?”

“I used to be, yeah.” Tracy mumbled with a small smile, glancing down at the coffee pot for a second before backup at the three of you. “I don’t see much of Andy, anymore.”

“Andy?” You turned your head away when you saw a man come out from the middle of nowhere, a dish rag was lying on his shoulder and a grin spread across his face. He plopped himself down on the chair next to you. “Andy kicks ass, man.”

“Is that right?” You asked, raising up an eyebrow. From all the other things that you have been hearing about this deadbeat, it was a bit surprising to hear that this guy might have a best friend from the way that the other man was talking about him.

“Yeah. Andy can get you into anything.” He said, placing down the cup and dishes he picked up from a previous customer he was waiting on. You could tell from the look his boss was giving him, she wasn’t too pleased to see him taking a small break and talking to the three of you. “He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once. It was beautiful, bro.”

“How about busting a table or two, Weber?” Tracy asked. She had one hand resting on her hip as she turned her head just enough to give the man a warning. You licked your lips to keep yourself from smiling.

“Yeah, you bet, boss.” Weber mumbled, flashing another smile at the three of you before picking up the dishes and heading off towards the kitchen to continue his job.

“Look, if you want to find him, try Orchard street.” She explained, but from the description, you felt your eyebrows beginning to rise from what you were suspecting was astonishment. Part of you was wondering if she was lying to save this man from unwanted harassment. “Just look for a van with the barbarian queen painted on the side.”

“Barbarian queen.” Dean repeated ,his tone of voice was finding this more amusing than it should have been for him.

“She’s riding a polar bear.” Tracy said, adding more detail. “It’s kind of hard of hard to miss.”

Well, Tracy sure wasn’t lying.

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a giggle from what you had spotted that was parked right across the street. A blue van with the exact description the waitress had give you; a barbarian queen that was riding a polar bear, and with quite good detail, you couldn’t help but think. After ditching the suits and heels for normal clothes, you and the brothers drove around town until you spotted that infamous blue van, waiting for the owner to get back so he could answer a few questions that were burning in the back of your head.

“I’m sorry. I’m starting to like this dude. That van is sweet.” Dean said, breaking the quietness. You turned your head to give him a look as a scoff rolled out from your mouth. Of course he would find this freak enjoyable. Dean averted his gaze away from the van to give you a glare, but his attention went towards his brother, who looked like he was pouting from the furrowed brows and overall worried expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Sam mumbled, shaking his head slightly.

“Sam, you look like you’re sucking on a lemon.” You remarked, frowning slightly. “Stop being such a bad liar and tell us what’s wrong, for once.”

“This Andrew Gallagher—he’s the second guy like this we’ve found, guys. “ Sam said, you felt your body stiffen when he went on explaining. “Demon came to them when they were kids. Now they’re killing people.”

“We don’t know what Andrew Gallagher is.” Dean said, shrugging off his brother’s concern with a simple shake of the head. “Could be innocent.”

“My visions haven’t been wrong yet.” Sam said, giving his brother a serious look.

“What’s your point?” You asked, masking your fear with curiosity.

“My point is I’m one of them.” Sam said, you felt a smile tug at the ends of your lips.

“No, you’re not.”

“The demon said he had plans for me and children like me.” Sam went on, explaining if you or his brother wasn’t getting what he was hinting at. You gave him a look, mumbling a yeah as a sign for him to continue this ridiculous thought. “Maybe this is his plan. Maybe we’re all a bunch of psychic freaks. Maybe we’re all supposed to be—”

“Killers?” Dean cut off his brother, finishing the other man’s sentence.

“Yeah.” Sam said, acting as if that is what he was trying to say.

“So the demon wants you out there, killing with your minds?” You asked, your tone was laced with sarcasm. Even with the serious glare Sam was giving you, it still didn’t stop you from continuing to make your point that he was sounding absurd. “If you forgot, he mentioned something about me, too. I don’t have any special abilities. Well,” You trailed off for a moment, amusing yourself with thought that haunted you from previous nights. “Maybe I’ll sprout some black eyes, turn into one of the little freaks and kill people with my bare hands.”

“Maybe.” Sam muttered underneath his breath, you slapped him on the shoulder from his comment, but you knew it didn’t do any damage from your strength compared to his.

“Give me a break.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, rolling his eyes at how you two were acting in front of him. “You’re not a murder, Sam! And there’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N. Neither of you have it in your bones to do wrong or kill.”

“No?” Sam asked, challenging what his brother had just said. Dean opened his mouth to further explain, but he could tell he back himself in a corner. “Last time I checked, I kill all kinds of things.”

“Those things were asking for it. There’s a difference.“ Dean remarked, giving his brother a look, the kind that made the point that for once, the oldest Winchester was right about something. But Sam still didn’t break away from that cute, puppy dog stare that made you feel kind of sorry for the poor boy. But at least he knew what was wrong with him, you were left hanging, like always.

When the car began to grow silent again, you turned your attention back towards the van, knowing the waiting game was just about to begin. You let out a quiet sigh and looked at everyone that passed by, not happy to see that none of them were stepping up to claim that ugly, piece of crap someone called a car. You were about to let yourself lose focus in some sort of conversation that was going on just across the street until Sam spoke up, breaking you from your concentration. “Got him.” Sam said, you followed the man that he had spotted, you felt your scrunched up at what you had saw.

There was Andy Gallagher himself; looking like he had just rolled out of bed and decided to go for a stroll. But what caught you off guard was the friend that he was waving towards, an eyebrow raised slightly when you noticed it was a rather pretty woman dressed in nothing more than a robe and her undergarments. It wouldn’t take an idiot to connect the dots at what happened. But you were more surprised to see them together. He wasn’t exactly the type of guy the girl would have wasted the effort for a second glance, let alone sleeping with him.

But it seems that this Andy fellow has a way with people. He strolled down the street, seeming happy as ever, even stopping a stranger on the street to say a quick hello. A few words were exchanged before the man was handing over his coffee that he was previously drinking right over to Andy without a problem, and with that, the two men went on their separate ways. What the hell is going on? You thought to yourself. All though, you’re broke again from your thoughts when Sam recognized the person from his vision.

“That’s him, that older guy.” Sam pointed towards the man that Andy was talking to now. He leaned over in his seat, as if he was trying to get a better look, but it was clear enough that the man was about to do something deadly. “He’s the shooter.”

“Well, you keep on him.” Dean suggested, looking over at his brother. “Y/N and I will stick with Andy. Go.”

Sam wasted no time in jumping out from the car to follow the other man, you decided to switch spots with the youngest Winchester, sliding yourself out from the backseat and making yourself comfy in the passenger side just when you saw Andy get himself in the van. Dean turns on the car again, letting the engine roar to life, and in just a few seconds, you and him are heading down the road, following Andy to see where he was heading.

\+ + +

Everything seemed to have been going as planned; you and Dean were trailing behind the van, driving for about five minutes until something started to seem a bit off. When you saw the brake lights turn on and the van suddenly stop in the middle of a road without anyone in sight, you had a feeling this man was a bit smarter than either of you had believed in. You saw the driver’s side door open and outcomes Andy, heading right up to you. Tossing Dean a worried look, he stops the car and slowly reaches for the gun that he had resting between the two of you, shoving it inside his jacket pocket, just in case. A forced smile spreads across your lips when you catch sight of the man, who is now coming closer towards Dean’s side of the car.

“Hey!” Andy calls out in a cheery voice. He leaned down and puts both hands on either side of the door, standing at the perfect level so he’s looking over the interior of the car. Dean mumbles out a similar greeting, you suspect that he’s not very happy someone is standing so close to him and putting his hands all over his precious Baby. “This is a cherry ride.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Dean says, growing a convincing smile.

“Man, you know, ‘67—” Andy drums his hands on the metal door, cracking another smile after taking a peek at the interior design. “Impala’s best year, if you ask me. This is a serious classic.”

“Yeah. You know, I just rebuilt her, too. Can’t let a car like this one go.” Dean said, rubbing his hand over the steering wheel. You felt your smile grow when he looked over at you, knowing him, he always like to add more details for a story to create more of an effect. But he was lingering away from the one that he had set up this morning. “My girlfriend was begging me to take her out for a spin. Nothing like having my girls out on this kind of day. Right, sweetheart?”

You gave him a smile that translated towards more of the lines of “I’m going to kill you” as you glanced back over at Andy. You squeezed Dean’s shoulder hard enough until you could see his facial expressions just tighten a bit from the pain you inflicted on him. “Well, sometimes I think he loves this car more than me.” You said, playfully winking at the Winchester. “But it’s a classic, that’s for sure.”

“Damn straight.” Andy said, slapping the other man on the shoulder. But what happened next wasn’t something you were expecting, or even control. “Hey.” He leaned down again and looked at you directly in the eye. “You two really aren’t together, are you?”

“God, no.” You laughed out, shaking your head. “He’s just my best friend—almost like a brother to me. All though, sometimes I think he wishes we were—Wait, oh my God.“ You feel a heat beginning to creep up on your cheeks, but you quickly see the grin spreading across Andy’s face from what had just happened to you, like he was expecting for you to spill the truth so easily.

He turned his attention towards Dean now, deciding to see what he could get out from this man. “Can I have your car?” Andy asked, as if he was simply asking for a pen to borrow. You felt your eyes widened as Dean just did what he told, a grin spreading across his face when he opened up the door, doing exactly what he was told. You flickered your attention towards Andy, opening your mouth to stop him, but you closed it when he spoke up again at you. “You don’t have a problem with that. Why don’t you get out, too?”

“Sure, man.” You agreed without a problem, opening up the passenger’s side door and getting out yourself, heading over towards the other side of the car so you were now standing next to Dean, who was helping Andy get into the car and make himself comfortable for the ride ahead.

“Sweet.” Andy mumbled, a grin beginning to spread across his lips as he slipped himself into the driver’s side. You placed your hands on your hips, watching as everything was happening, suddenly not caring about what was happening anymore. Why were you so against this, again?

“Hop right in there.” Dean said, closing the door and slapping his hand slightly against the metal, giving the man another smile, taking a step back so he could take the Impala off your hands for now. "There you go.”

“Very nice.” Andy mumbled, loving the feel of everything about this car. But it seemed that there was something missing that would only make things a bit better. He pointed a finger at you from the open window, wagging it slightly. “Hey, come over here.” You felt your foot step forward, knowing you couldn’t stop yourself from doing what he wanted. “You want to leave with me and forget about him. I think you and I could have a lot of fun. ”

"You don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had any of that?” You mumbled, giving the man sitting in the car a playful wink. You looked over your shoulder at Dean, who was standing in the middle of the road, acting like he had no idea what was going on, or even made an attempt to stop you from leaving.

You headed over towards the passenger’s side again, sliding yourself inside and slamming the door behind. Before Andy pressed his foot on the gas pedal, you leaned over slightly so you could say one more thing to the other man. “Later loser!” You shouted, a grin spreading across your lips when you say back down, giving Andy a look for him to start driving again. Before you could realize what was going on, Dean was becoming nothing more than a small figure in the rear view mirror.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, a hand running down his face at what just happened. Sure he just let his precious car, the one thing that he had left of his father’s, just slip out from his sight. The cherry on top of it all was how you just walked off with a complete stranger, a freak that had some sort of ability that could make anyone do whatever he wanted.

But the shrilling sounds of his cell phone ringing made Dean brake off from his thoughts. He shoved a hand inside his back pocket and pulled out his phone, not happy to see that the caller was Sam. He counted down until three, hoping that his little brother had some good news. He really needed that right now. When he flipped open the phone and pressed it towards his ear, an eye roll threatened to spill over at his brother’s first sentence.

“Dean, Andy’s got the Impala!” Sam shouted the obvious. “And Y/N’s with him? How the hell did you let this happen?“

“I know!” Dean shouted, aggravation lined in his words. He started to pace around the road, placing a hand against his head for a moment. “He just sort of asked me for the car, and I let him take it.”

“You what?” Sam asked, not sure what he was hearing. "And what about Y/N? She’s not the type to just run off with a complete stranger. All you had to do was keep an eye on her!”

“He full-on on Obi-Wan's us. Y/N waltzed on like she didn’t have a care in the world. You should have seen her act around this guy.” Dean grumbled, placing a hand on his hip when he realized what was making the man they had been tracking down so special. “It’s mind control, man.”

Before Sam could comment on the matter, the line had went quiet for a few moments, but Dean could hear the panicked screams and distinct chatter coming from the other line. He started heading over towards his brother, having an idea of what was going on.

The sounds of ambulance wailings caught your attention; you watched as two police cars trailed behind down the road, heading down the street that Sam was following the man he had in his vision. You felt the Impala slowly stop down the middle of the empty street, the commotion seeming to have caught Andy’s attention. He peeked his head out from the car window and looked to see what was happening. It seemed that someone had stepped in front of a bus, a quick way to end someone’s life But when the man caught sight of the victim, you watched as his grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white. He mumbled goodbye towards the person that he was speaking on the phone with, his free hand dropping towards the seat.

You nervously shifted around in your seat, suddenly realizing what was going on. This guy could make you do whatever he wanted thanks to this demon. And by connecting the dots, he could be a Max Miller type, have you dead in a blink of an eye from what was happening. When Max got angry, someone would have ended up brutally deas. But you felt yourself smiling when he turned his head around to look at you, his face was blank of any emotion. And before you could say anything, he was mumbling out something that wouldn’t have needed a command.

“Get out.”

“Hey, I thought—”

“Get out of the car!”

Your hand automatically reached for the door handle and it swung open, your feet touched the pavement and you were now standing in the middle of the road. You had to take a step back and slam the door behind you, watching a few moments later as the Impala drove off again. You let out a breath, not sure what was going on anymore, your fingers run through your hair from the stress of this situation.

As you watch the car take a sharp right turn, you have a feeling of where he could be heading in this situation. If you had just witnessed something that made you terribly upset, where would you go? Your friends, of course. You remember the directions back towards the diner that Tracy girl worked at, she seemed to have been the type that would have been someone Andy would have wanted to go to. And if you found the Impala, you would find the brothers. Problem solved.

You felt your lips beginning to stretch into a smile, you were getting good at this hunting gig. There stood the precious Impala in all of her glory. And when you turned your head just the slightest, there came the two idiot brothers strolling on up. Of course he would look for his car first. You shook your head and headed up towards the brothers that still didn’t seem to see you coming from the other side of the street.

“Thank God!” Dean called out, now jogging across the street towards his car, making sure to take a quick look over to see if there was any small flaws. He leaned down to take a look on the inside. “I’m sorry, Baby. I’ll never leave you again.”

“I’m fine, too. I wouldn’t want either of you to be too concerned about my whereabouts!” You had snuck up so you were now standing on the passenger side, giving the oldest WInchester the dirtiest glare you could muster up. You rolled our eyes when Dean tossed you a confused look, you turned your attention over at Sam, “Well, I had quite an adventure. Turns out this this Andy guy is some sort of—”

“Mind control freak?“ Sam finished your thought, you stood back up and nodded.

"At least he left the keys in the car.” Dean said. You and Sam gave one another a look before rolling your eyes again, still not believed that he was thinking about this piece of metal.

“Yeah. Real Samaritan, this guy.” Sam mumbled, finding his brother’s choice of topic beginning to grow a little more on the annoying side. You couldn’t help yourself but smile the slightest, finding their bickering just a little bit more amusing than it should have been, like always when they argued.

“It looks like he can’t work his mojo just by twitching his nose.” Dean said, turning his head away from the car to look at you and Sam. “He’s got to use verbal commands.”

“The doctor had just gotten off his cellphone when he stepped in front of that bus.” Sam said, letting out a quiet sigh at the turn of events. You were beginning to realize that the man you had previously saw was one from Sam’s vision, but it seemed that he had died anyway. “Andy must have called him or something. Do you remember anything?” He asked you now, wondering if you could recollect on the small moment you had with the other man. You shook your head, knowing you would remember if Andy had called this doctor to make him step in front of a bus, but your mind was drawing a blank.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean said. By the tone of his voice, he didn’t seem so thrilled at the idea of Andy being the man that did harm on this innocent doctor.

“Beg your pardon?” Sam asked, raising up an eyebrow.

“I just don’t know if he’s our guy, Sam.” Dean admitted to his brother.

“You had O.J. convicted before he got out of his bronco,” Sam pointed out that infamous trail that always was a topic of debate between the brothers at the time. You rolled your eyes at what was happening. “And you have doubts about this?”

“He doesn’t seem like the stone-killer type. That’s all.” Dean said, but making sure to add another useless input. “And O.J. was guilty.”

“Either way, how are we gonna track this guy down again?” You asked, trying to get the brothers back on topic. You had a man that could have someone do whatever he wanted with a simple command, you weren’t really in the mood to let him run loose.

Dean thought about it for a few moments, but you watched as face lit up when he thought about a possible idea. “Not a problem.” He said. As he began walking back over towards the Impala, Sam gave you a confused look when he wasn’t sure what his brother was getting at, you shrugged your shoulders and headed for the back seat, wondering where the oldest man was going to take you to start another wild goose chase.

When you had traced around town to find that hideous blue van sitting in an empty parking lot, you felt your lips twitch into a smile, knowing very well that this car stood out like a sore thumb in a town like this. All of you headed out from the Impala and up towards the van, deciding to take a peek around for clues of where Andy could be hiding out for now.

“Not exactly in inconspicuous ride.” Dean mumbled, you looked over your shoulder to see if anyone was around, but the coast was clear. He opened his jacket slightly and reached for a long, piece of metal. “Let’s have a look.”

You continued to be a lookout with Sam, wondering if the small grunt from the lock could have been heard from anyone, but the parking lot still remained empty. When you turned around to see what the back of the van looked like, you had gotten more than what you bargained for. It looked like you had just stepped into some eighties man cave on wheels; there was a disco ball hanging from the ceiling, the floor was covered with sheets and thick blankets, and you felt your eyes trace over towards one walls that hung a rather large picture of a tiger. You shook your head, knowing the situation might have just gotten a bit weirder than you wanted.

“Oh, come on.” You heard Dean mumble to himself, letting out a chuckle of amusement. You tossed him a glare, not exactly pleased with his reaction. “This–This is magnificent. That’s what this is.”

“I hate to agree with your brother Sam, but, this isn’t exactly a serial killer’s lair.” You said. You reached out for one of the books that had been piled up on the side where Sam was standing. When you read the title and author, you were taken back, this exactly wasn’t easy reading material. You had been forced to read these kinds of books in your high school experience, and even you couldn’t understand some of it. This guy was smarter than he lead up to be, that was for sure. 

“There’s no clown paintings on the walls or scissors stuck in victims’ photos.” Dean commented, you rolled your eyes at his wild imagination. You made a mental note for him to stop watching so many horror movies that drew out his imagination. “I like the tiger.” He mumbled to himself. Of course he would.

“Hegel? Kant? Wittgenstein?” Sam read off the titles from the books that you had been previously looking at, seeming that he was just as taken back by the reading material as you were. “That’s some pretty heavy reading, Dean.”

“Yeah, and uh,” Dean cleared his throat when he reached for something that made you whistle that the size of the glass container, knowing very well what that was for. “Moby Dick’s bong.”

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh from the comment. Deciding that it was enough peeking around for the time being, you and the brothers headed back towards the Impala for another long, tedious stakeout.

You sat in the backseat again with your attention on the same papers that Ash had pulled on this guy, wondering if there was something that you or Sam had missed. But your attention was pulled away when you heard the sounds of tin foil being crumbled up and a silver ball being tossed in your direction. You rolled your eyes, wondering if either one of them had forgotten that you were back here most of the time.

“Blech. You know, one day I’d love to just sit down and eat something that I didn’t have to microwave at a minimart.” Dean complained, you threw the wrapped back up at him after you put the papers down. You were now leaning against the front seat, looking at the oldest Winchester with annoyed glare.

“How many times have I offered in the past to cook dinner for you two?” You asked, raising an eyebrow for effect. “And I’m not the one that let that junk you call food sit in the car for the past two hours. Don’t complain to me when you get a stomach ache.”

“Whatever you say, Mommy Dearest.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath, chewing the last bit of food before swallowing it. You grimaced and sat back down in your seat, deciding to focus yourself on the papers that needed to be looked over again.

“What I don’t get is the motive.” Sam said, bringing the attention back towards the man that he had been previously following behind. It seemed that during the advantage of dodging him from blowing his brains out, like in Sam’s visions, he gotten another phone call, and just a few moments later—he was running right in front of a bus. Whoever was doing this, they wanted the older man dead. “The doctor was squeaky clean. Why would Andy waste him?”

“If it is Andy.” Dean said, still not on board with this situation.

“Dude, enough.”

“Why?”

“The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus.” Sam said, pointing out the facts that all of you knew, but tittered then just enough to make his suspicion sem valid. “Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math.”

“I don’t think the guy has it in him.” Dean said, still not breaking from his own opinion.

“How the hell would you know?” Sam fired questions at his brother. “Why are you bending over backwards defending him? 

“‘Cause you’re not right about this.” Dean simply stated.

“About Andy?” Sam still asked questions.

But before Dean could anything else, there was a pounding on the roof that made you jump out of your skin, a bit taken back by the turn of events. You turned your head away from the brothers to see it was none other than Andy, who was looking rather pissed off, just like the last time you had left him. He was now standing on the passenger’s side of the car, staring directly at the brothers, wanting some answers of his own.

“Hey! You think I haven’t see you there?” Andy asked. Well, so much for being discreet. And before you knew it, he was at it again, getting whatever he wanted. “Why are you following me?”

“Well, we’re lawyers.” Sam started to explain the bogus story, as if he wasn’t affected at all from Andy’s special ability. But the truth, all of it, was beginning to weigh on the tip of your tongue, and before you could stop yourself like before, it was all coming out. Even the things that you had been keeping from the brothers for months and months demanded to be spoken. Andy triggered something in you to speak nothing what was on your mind, unaware of future consequences. “A relative of yours has—”

“Tell the truth!” Andy commanded.

“That’s what—” Sam tried to explain, cracking a convincing smile, but when you opened your mouth, you knew it was all over.

“Demons. They hunt demons.” You found yourself just spitting it all out. Sam shifted around in his seat, giving you a look that would have made you shut up in just a few seconds flat. He mumbled out your name, but you were too gone to stop. “Demons and spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn’t even touch. These two idiots,” You leaned over and placed a hand on their shoulders. ‘Sam and Dean, they’re brothers. And I wasn’t lying before, I’m just their friend.”

“Y/N, shut up.” Sam hissed at you, you gave him a pleading look, almost wishing that he would do something to stop you from talking.

“I can’t.” You mumbled, your mouth still moving as you looked back at Andy. “Sam is psychic, like you. Well, not really like you. He thinks you’re a murderer, and well I was thinking that myself for a while, but look at you—you’re more of the kind that has no ambition in life..” You went on, still not stopping yourself from talking. “But, Sam here, he’s afraid he’s gonna become one himself. And here’s the real kicker,” Oh bloody hell, here it comes. “I think there’s something wrong with me, too. I keep having these nightmares that I’m turning into the thing we hate—”

Before you could finish, you immediately snapped yourself out of it, slapping a hand over your mouth. You let in a deep breath, happy to have stopped at the part that would have made everything turn south. But Dean was at it himself, spilling out some more truth, and unlike you, he couldn’t stop himself. “That’s not all of it. You’re all part of something that’s terrible.” Dean went on admitting things, but what he said made you and his brother look at him like he’d grown a second head. “I hope to hell that both of them are wrong, but I’m starting to get scared Sam might be right.”

“Okay,” Andy began mumbling to himself, obviously taken back with what you and the oldest brother had just admitted. “You know what? Just leave me alone.” He commanded, you knew that wasn’t gonna be a problem, Dean mumbled an okay before hunching down, letting out a groan from what had just happened to him.

But Sam didn’t seem to be done with the man, stepping out from thee car and heading straight up to Andy, cornering him against a fence, with no way of getting out. When you made sure that the other brother seemed all right, despite of what just happened, you jumped out of the car and headed up towards Sam, who seemed to have been trying to get some information out from Andy to prove his suspicions right. You heard the other car door open, and a few seconds later, Dean was standing behind you, seeing everything go down.

“You can make people do things, can’t you?” Sam questioned Andy. He was following him around like the smaller man was his prey, making sure he wouldn’t run away. You started to make your way up, but Sam put up a hand, stopping you or his brother from screwing this up. For whatever reason, the youngest Winchester didn’t seem to be affected by the mind control. “You can tell them what to think.”

“That’s crazy.” Andy said, cracking a small smile before throwing his hands up.

“All started a year ago, didn’t it? After you turned twenty-two.” Sam went on. “Little stuff at first, then you got better at controlling it.”

“How do you know all of this?” Andy asked. You could tell from the look that was beginning to grow on his face, Sam had hit a nerve, and it was exactly what had been going on in his life.

“Because the same thing happened to me, Andy.” Sam admitted. “My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities, too. You see, we’re connected, you and me.”

But Andy didn’t want to hear the truth anymore. His hands were now on his head, eyelids were pressed together as hard he could make them. “Just—Just get out of here!” He commanded, but it didn’t work, Sam still continued to press for answers and follow the man around.

“Why did you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?” Sam questioned. The look that grew across Andy’s face was nothing more than confusion. He shouted out a what, his voice cracking slightly at the accusation. Sam wasn’t fooled by the act., but before he could say anything else, you watched as he started twitching in discomfort, like he was getting another migraine–or a vision. Still, Sam pressed again when he got himself under control. “Why did you kill him?”

“I didn’t!” Andy shouted, still not changing his answer.

But the attention for the moment shifted towards Sam when he started to lose focus in what was going on right in front of him. You and Dean went right up towards his little brother, managing to catch right before he started to fall towards the pavement from the pounding inside his head. You helped his body ease towards the ground, watching as he finally managed to come around a few moments later, Dean still calling out his brother’s name in a concerned tone from what was happening.

“I didn’t do anything to him.” Andy declared, now at the same level as the three of you. Throwing a threatening glare in his direction, you knew that would be enough to shut the man up for now.

“A woman.” Sam muttered out, your eyes went back towards him. “A woman burning alive.”

“What else you get?” Dean asked.

“A gas station.” Sam said, remembering what he could from his vision. “A woman is gonna kill herself.”

“What does he mean, ‘going to’?” Andy questioned. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Shut up.” You ordered, throwing up a had to stop him from saying anything else. He seemed taken back by your tone, quickly quieting himself down.

“She gets triggered by a call on her cell.” Sam adds on, his attention slowly going back towards the man that is crouched down just a foot from where he is. You asked when, but he doesn’t seem to have the answer. “I don’t know.” He admits, getting himself back up from the ground with his brother’s help. “As long as we keep our eyes out on this son of a bitch, he can’t hurt her.”

“I didn’t hurt anybody!” Andy shouted again, still not changing his answer.

Just as Sam opened his mouth to argue that point, you turned your head towards the road when you heard the sounds of sirens and a few seconds later, a fire truck zooming right by. You looked over at Sam, knowing that exactly wasn’t a good sign to see. “Go.” He said, nodding his head towards the Impala. You tossed a glare towards Andy before following behind Dean, but you had a feeling someone else was in the mix that was causing all of these assisted suicides.

When you arrived at the gas station, you had to pinch your nose from the rotting smell that lingered around the place, it was clear that you and Dean arrived just a little bit too late. Firefighters were still trying to get out the last bit of the fire and troopers were making sure that all civilians were out of sight, except you and the other brother, thanks to a couple of fake badges and a little white lie here, you were allowed to stay. You asked a few questions to gather some information that you mostly knew, but making sure to grab the victim’s personal information before heading back towards Dean, who was on the phone with his brother to break the news.

“Hey, it’s me. She’s dead.” Dean explained the situation. “Burned up, just like you said.”

“When?” Sam asked from the other line.

“Minutes before we got here. The smell hasn’t even cleared.” Dean said, you began to mindlessly trail behind when he began to wander around. “What’s up with your visions, man? This wasn’t even a head start.”

“I don’t know. I can’t control them.” Sam admitted. “I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

“You were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it can’t be him.” Dean said. “It’s gotta be somebody else.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Sam mumbled, you let out a quiet scoff.

“What else is new?” Dean remarked, letting out a quiet sigh. “Y/N and I will dig around here, see what else we can find.”

And with that being said, he shoved his phone and shoved it back inside his jacket pocket. He glanced over at you, nodding his head towards the crime scene that needed both of yours attention. “Let’s go, Nancy Drew.” You rolled your eyes at his nickname he liked to use, and you followed behind like always, gathering more information before heading back towards the other men to share what you had learned.

“Thanks, again. You’ve been a big help.” You scribbled down the last bit of information about the victim on a piece of paper you found in the sea of other documents. You sat in the car again, driving back from the gas station with the phone pressed towards your ear, quickly writing down the notes that Ash was mindlessly listing off, almost too fast for you to keep up with.

After promising him to buy the man a round when you saw each other again, it was enough to get him working on digging more information before hitting a wall. But what he had given you was good enough for now until you could find a way around this little obstacle. You had a feeling your new little psychic friend would be willing to help dig for the truth after all of you stopped pointing the finger that he was a murderer, which after these turn of events, you were beginning to see that he wasn’t.

You closed your cell phone and shoved it back into your pocket when you saw the car had stopped and parked back in the same hide out spot. Sam and Andy has gotten up from their spots to head up towards the both of you, wondering what you had learned from the crime scene. You stepped out of the car after Dean, who wasted no time in getting to the both of everything.

"Victim’s name was Holly Beckett. Forty-one. Single.” He explained, eyes trailing towards the smaller man, waiting for more. But Andy remained quiet, holding back any information he might have from all of you.

“Who is she?” Sam asked.

“Never heard of her.” Andy admitted to all of you, shrugging his shoulders at the name given.

“I called Ash on the way over. He came out with a little something.” You said, shoving your hands into your back jean pockets. “Apparently Holly Beckett gave birth when she was eighteen years old, back in 1983—” You glanced over at the man, a small spreading across your lips at the unlikely coincidence. “Same day as you were born, Andy.”

“Andy, were you adopted?” Sam asked, glancing over at the man when the thought came to him.

“Well, yeah.” He said, you shook your head at that information.

“You were?” Dean asked with disbelief voice. “And you neglected to mention that?”

“It never really came up.” Andy defended himself, you rolled your eyes at his logic. “I mean, I never knew my birth parents, and, like you said, my adopted mom died when I was a baby. Do you think this Holly could be—”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, letting out a sigh. “Ash tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they’re sealed in the county office. It’s almost impossible to get.”

“Well, screw that.” Andy said, knowing well enough he could get all of you on there without a problem. You felt a small smirk tug at the ends of your lips. It seems that your plan was going to be in effect, after all.

\+ + +

“I probably shouldn’t have let you kids in here.“ The middle aged security guard rambled on, staring at Andy while he guided him towards the office door. You stood with a box full of files in your hands, watching as the entire situation unfolded, and for a moment, you were beginning to feel bad about doing this. He could lose his job if none of you were careful enough. But it seemed that Andy was taking his new job pretty serious; making up a story that wouldn’t raise more than just a few eyebrows and it even gave the poor man a break. Thank you for these kids and their freaky powers, you thought to yourself before putting down the box on the table where Sam was sitting at, reading over more documents that he seemed to have been intrigued by.

“No. It’ll be all fine.” Andy reassured the man, another command rolling out of his mouth that made the older gentleman seem more at ease. “Just go get a cup of coffee, all right?” And for an added kick, he decided to his best impression of Obi-Wan. “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” You heard Dean mumble something underneath his breath, cracking a small smile before placing down another box on the table just like you. Letting out a small sigh, you looked over your shoulder to see the other man coming back, happy to know that he coast was clear.

“I got it.” Sam declared after just a few seconds of silence. You looked up from the box of documents, you had just taken off the top when he had found the information that everyone was just about to search for. None of you were here for even five minutes and Sam was working his magic, going exactly where all the good information was. Man, he was good, even just a little bit better than you when he took control of research.

“Yeah?” You asked, raising up an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Sam mumbled. You watched as Andy wasted no time and headed over towards the empty chair next to Sam, eager to find out the truth about the deceased woman that could have been his real mother. Sam let out a sigh, he placed his good hand on the file and looked at the man sitting next to him. "Andy, it’s true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother.”

A small gasp escaped Andy’s throat; he looked down at the information, the color from his face was beginning to drain, just leaving him looking rather pale in the small light that you had down here. “Does anyone have a vicodin?” He muttered, trying to ease himself with the information.

“Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too. I mean, he oversaw the adoption.” Sam continued to explain the entire situation that was beginning to become a lot more clearer of why someone wanted them to die, but you knew it wasn’t Andy. Just the look on his face made it know he didn’t know about his past. “You have a solid connection to both of them.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t kill them.” Andy said, looking at the three of you.

“We believe you.” Dean said, giving the man a reassuring nod. He looked over at his brother, wanting to hear the man say the same thing, despite what he believed earlier, all before this information came to light "But who did?” Was the million dollar question that began to linger on everyone’s mind.

“I think I got a pretty good guess.” Sam said, you waved him on to tell everyone the answer. He quickly swallowed before saving it out loud. “Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.”

“Well,” You pushed yourself off the table and let out a breath. You didn’t see that one coming. “I think things just went a little Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on us—in a twin version.“

You let Andy process the information for the moment after sneaking what the name of his twin was and scribbling it down on a post-it note. You headed over towards the other side of the basement office and called the DMV office to request the information of this new brother, but you found yourself sneaking glanced over at the twin that sat just across the room while you were on hold, making sure he didn’t pass out from the shock of everything. After a few minutes of talking to a sweet, old lady, you walked to the fax machine when you heard it start printing off the information. This job sure had its twists and turns no one has seen coming, that’s for sure.

“I have an evil twin.” Andy mumbled underneath his breath, still taking in all the information that has being thrown at him all at once. You gave him a small smile, knowing how overwhelming the feeling of buried truth can be.

Sam had gotten up from the table and started walking around with the folder in his hands, still reading off what he had learned, catching up everyone with how the family of three had ended up like this today. “Holly put you and your brother up for adoption.” Sam said, summarizing what he read. “You went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate.”

“Andy, how are you doing?” You called out, giving the man a concerned look, who still seemed to be in a daze, almost as if he was going to pass out. “Still with us?”

“Um,” That seemed to have brought the man back from his thoughts, he dropped his hands down from his head and let out a breath to call himself down. “What was my brother’s name?”

“Here.” Sam skimmed the document quickly before finding it. “Um, Ansem Weems?” He asked the man, seeing if that would have rang any bells, but Andy shook his head. “He’s got a local address.”

“He lives here?” Andy questioned. Oh, things had just gotten better for the poor man. His brother was right under his nose this entire time and without his knowledge.

“Let’s get a look at him. I got his picture coming over from the DMV right now.” You said, grabbing the warm pieces of paper that just finished printing off.

You headed towards towards the men, flicking through the information that you already knew, but when you finally came towards the photocopied license, you stopped in your tracks at who you saw in the grainy picture. It was just clear enough to make out a face you’ve seen once before, but he was enough of a character to leave a good impression. Your eyes glanced over at Andy, you forced a small smile at the man.

“Hate to kick you while you’re freaked.” You mumbled. He let out a chuckle as if things couldn’t have gotten worse, but you handed over the paper. “Take a look at that.”

Andy grabbed the paper and observed it for a few moments; you watched his facial expressions slowly stretched themselves out into disbelief. You forced yourself to give him another weak smile, knowing his mind was probably going a million miles a minute. It seems that Webber, Andy’s number one friend, had a stronger connection than he lead on—And a strange way of showing how he cared for the people he was related to.

All of you wasted no time in heading back towards the Impala, knowing if this man had an urge to kill whoever was close towards the twins, you didn’t exactly want to wait around to see who this guy had set eyes as his next victim. You and Andy sat in the backseat, watching as the road passed you by for the moment, but your attention turned towards Sam, who was asking the man sitting next to you questions about his twin, who had been playing the act of his best friend for all these months.

“All right, Andy.” Sam said. “Tell us everything you know about this guy.”

“I don’t know much.” Andy admitted, his hands were resting on the front seat and his body was marked in the middle of the backseat. Luckily you were small enough to nuzzle yourself in the corner of the car, finding comfort in sitting behind Sam. “Webber shows up one day, like eight months ago, acting like he’s my best friend in the world. He’s kind of weird, like trying too hard, you know?”

“He must have known you guys are twin.” Dean said, keeping his eye contact on the road. But something had been bothering him about this entire situation. “Why did he change his name? Why not tell the truth?”

Before either one of you could have commented on the matter, you shifted your attention towards the man that was sitting in front of you, his muffled groans caught you off guard. You furrowed your eyebrows at what was happening, but when you caught sight of his face scrunched up in pain in the rear view mirror, you knew what was happening. Sam was having another vision, this must have been the third one since you had taken this case. You placed a hand on his shoulder, calling out his name, hoping that it would have been enough to calm him down. Of course, it wasn’t. He shifted around in his seat until he was keeled over, clutching his head as he continued to groan in pain.

“Dean, stop the car.” You ordered, and just a few seconds flat, your body jerked forward. When you heard the engine shut off, you quickly ripped open the back seat door and stumbled out, dropping towards your knees when Sam had swung the passenger door wide open. He was now leaning in his seat, holding his head that must have been pounding. You heard footsteps approaching from behind and a moment later, Dean was hovering over his brother. “Sam? Sammy!”

When the youngest Winchester had managed to calm himself down after breaking concentration from his premonition, he had told you all what he had saw; Tracy was standing at the edge of a dam, she got herself up towards the edge, and well, just the look on his face was known well enough what she had done. You knew his visions ended with nothing more than death. You had just hoped all of you were fast enough to stop this creep from taking yet another life.

Andy had told you there was only one dam that he could have think of in town, and luckily, it was only a ten minute drive from where all of you were. You and the other boys headed back into the car and drove towards your next location without speaking a single word. Your fingers twitched in your lap as you took a few glances over at the man that sat on the other side of the car. His facial expressions were nothing more than fear, you watched from the corner of your eye as his knee bounced up and down until the car stopped again. After what felt like a thousand years sitting, you had saw the dam come into view. And just your luck, a car with two people sitting inside, were just a good distance ahead from all of you. There wasn’t much that needed to be put in to make it known; Tracy and Webber were sitting inside.

You got out of the car after you saw the brothers make their exit, you headed up towards the truck and stood by Sam’s side as Dean opened up the trunk. Knowing the youngest Winchester, he always like to be cautious about things. “Guys, you should stay back.” Sam suggested, you rolled your eyes, not exactly liking the idea, but it seemed that Dean was okay with it.

“No argument here.” Dean said, taking the keys out from the lock and pushing the trunk wide open. “I had my head screwed with enough for one day.”

As you saw Sam reach for a gun from the duffel bag, you let out a breath, deciding now to speak up before it was too late. “I’m coming with you.” You said, deciding to stand your ground. But the looks that began to stretch across the brothers’ faces made it known that they didn’t know to laugh or yell at you for proposing so such an idiotic suggestion. “Look, I don’t know how, but I think I can somehow stop myself, just in case this little freak tries something.”

“Count me in, too.” You turned your head to see Andy standing next to you. Sam gave both of you a serious look, as he opened his mouth to protest this idea, the other man wasted no time in putting his own reason for doing this. “Tracy’s out there, and I’m coming.”

“We need all hands on deck.” You said, heading over towards the duffel bag and reaching for something to defend yourself. When you got yourself into a hunting mode, it was hard to find yourself getting out of it. All you could think about was going in for the kill, making sure the day was saved. You grabbed a gun and quickly checked it over, cocking it back before shoving it into the back of your jeans. “I don’t know about you boys, but I feel like showing our new friend a little bit of his own medicine.”

Sam didn’t bothering to try and persuading you out of this idea, so he let out a quiet breath and nodded his head, making up a quick plan that seemed like it could have worked. Before making sure that Dean was clear from sight, you and Andy were given the task to get Tracy to safety while Sam took care of the evil twin. You trailed just at enough distance from Sam, who had been quiet enough to sneak up on the driver’s side without Webber knowing. And before you knew it, you heard the sound of glass breaking and Sam pointing the barrel of the gun straight at the man sitting inside.

“Get out of the car!” Sam ordered at the man, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Now!”

“You really don’t want to do this.” Webber threatened, but Sam wasn’t affected by the words, slamming the barrel of the gun against the man’s face, enough to make him start bleeding and make himself distracted for the moment.

When you motioned to Andy to make his move, he ripped open the passenger side door and quickly helped out Tracy, who was in hysterics from what was happening to her. You felt so bad for her and what she was put through, you wanted to take the man that you had been hunting for and show him a lesson he would never forget. But Sam decided to do that; he shoved the man out from the car and threw him towards the ground, pointing the gun against the back of his head.

“Hey! Don’t move.” Sam hissed out the order. When you saw that he was securely pinned down, you wasted no time and pulling off a long piece of duct tape and ripping off a strange, slapping it roughly against his lips. You let out a breath, hoping that it would have taken care of him for the moment. But when you saw Andy come hurling up towards his brother, you new it was just the start of another problem. You could tell from the look in his eyes, he was pissed.

“I will kill you!” Andy started yelling out threats from the top of his lungs, kicking the man as hard as he could Sam quickly lunged for the other brother, trying his hardest to calm him down, but he wouldn’t stop, the anger for what had almost happened to his good friend was clouding his judgement. But everything had happened so fast for you to keep up.

During the argument and fueled angered words that were being shouted around, it seemed that Webber was proving himself to be more stronger than his twin. You could feel Sam’s name coming out from your throat in a panicked tone when you watched as his body dropped towards the pavement. When your eyes trailed up towards who had done it, you felt your hand drop away from the gun. Tracy was hovering over the unconscious body with a large stick, sobbing at what she had been forced to do.

“Tracy, stop!” Andy shouted, stopping her before she could take another swing. “I said, stop it!” You took your chance and stepped toward, swallowing slightly, but grabbed the stick, tossing it across the road before any more damage could be done. Webber ripped off the duct tape, spitting out the blood that filled up his mouth. “How did you do that?”

“Practice, bro.” Webber said, throwing his hand up and growing a grin. “If you just practiced, you would know. Sometimes,” He rolled up the tape and threw it toward the ground before starting to walk up towards the three of you. “You don’t need to use your words. If you have to, all you need is this.” He said, tapping a finger against his head. “Sometimes the headache is worth it.”

When you had saw that Webber seemed to have been distracted enough, you took your chance at getting at least one person out of here alive. Your hand slowly began to reach toward the back of your jeans where the gun had been stored away. If you could just sneak the gun off to Tracy and somehow make up a deal so she could leave, maybe none of this would have ended on a sour note. But before you could even feel the brush of cold metal against your skin, something else was moving in your body. Your feet were starting to move at a slow pace, and as much as you fought for yourself to stop moving, it seemed that he really was stronger than any of you.

In just a few seconds flat; you were standing on the small concrete edge, letting out shaky, panicked breaths at what you had saw. The view of the dam, the concrete walls and long, long way down made your knees begin to wobble in fright. You could feel the cold gust of wind brush your flustered cheeks, but it wasn’t enough to stop the heart that pounded inside your ears. If the fall didn’t kill you or a wrong step, a heart attack might have just looking at the sight below you. As you kept trying to move your body backward, you still couldn’t budge from your spot. Well, here comes the guilt and regret from not listening to the brothers. But you tried to remind yourself it could have been Traci up here, but she wasn’t. She was safe for now.

“You twisted son of a bitch!” Andy yelled out, lunging forward at his brother, trying to throw a punch in, but Webber somehow pinned him down before things could get violent for them.

"Back off, Andy!” Webber shouted. “Or your pretty friend is gonna do a little flying.” You tore your gaze away from the drop below and looked over your shoulder to see Andy was staring at you, eyes widening at the turn of events. You would have cracked a small smile, but it seemed that the fear of the possible wrong move was only making you want to cry. But you kept yourself calm as you could. This little bastard wasn’t going to have the pleasure of seeing you break down in front of him. “Aren’t you, Y/N?”

You closed your eyes, trying your hardest to get control of your body again, but it seemed that he still had you pinned in place. “I’m stronger than you. I can do it.” Webber taunted his brother, as if he was proving his point that he was the alpha brother, and you were little toy to play with. Andy stared at you for a few moments, thinking of a possible plan, but finally, he looked back at his brother and took a few steps back in defeat, doing exactly what the other man wanted.

“Okay, okay. Okay.” Andy said, backing away slowly from his brother. “All right, just, please,” He looked back over at you again before back at Webber. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Don’t be mad at me, okay? I know. It’s all wrong.” Webber said, changing his tone and acting like he was the innocent one here. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s just,” He turned his attention towards the woman that was standing just a few feet from where you were, still shaking in fright. “She’s trying to come between us.” 

“You’re insane.” Andy mumbled, shaking his head slowly.

“She’s garbage! Man, they all are!” Webber rambled on, acting like a madman from how he was speaking. It seemed the power was beginning to grow straight towards his head. “We can push them. We can make them do whatever we want!”

“Are you really–Are you really this stupid?” Andy questioned the man, letting out a shaky laugh from what his brother was saying. “Is it–You learn you got a twin, you call him up, you go out for a drink.You don’t start killing people!”

“I wanted to tell you for so long, bro, but,” Webber went on explaining, but your attention was focused on what you could see happening from the corner of your eye. Sam was beginning to wake up, moving around just the slightest. All though, you felt your ears perk up towards the unlikely conversation topic that sprang up between the twins. The thing that made them how they were. "He didn’t let me. He said I had to wait until the time—”

“Who?” Andy questioned, cutting off the man.

“The man with the yellow eyes.” Webber said, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of the monster. Of course that son of a bitch would have made sure track down the extra special twin.

“What are you talking about?” Andy asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“He came to me,” Webber explained. “In my dream. He said I was special. He told me he’s got me plans for me. Wait till you see what’s in store, Andy,“ He grabbed his brother by his jacket and yanked him forward slightly, another grin spreading across his face. “For both of us. See, he’s the one who told me I had a brother, a twin.” But it seemed that Andy wasn’t falling of this picture perfect moment that Weber had planned in his head.

“Why did you kill our mom?“ Andy asked the question that had been burning in the back of his mind since he learned the truth. "And why Dr. Jennings?”

“Because they split us up!” Weber snapped, shouting at the top of his lungs, anger was lined in his words. “They ruined our lives, Andy! We could have been together this whole time instead of alone. I couldn’t let them do that. I couldn’t let them get away with that. No.” He mumbled the last word to himself.

Just as you looked over your shoulder when you heard everything go silent, you felt yourself beginning to grow with panic when you caught sight of that smirk that Webber had spread across his lips. He was staring off into the distance, your stomach clenched when you realized that Dean was alone out there, and knowing him, he was probably going to try and save the day. But everything after that suddenly happened so fast.

You could hear the gunshot ringing in your ears and suddenly after seeing Webber’s body drop towards the ground, you could feel the sensation that was pinning you down in place suddenly lifted up. But while you were still shaken up with everything in the process, you had felt your footing just begin to slip the slightest—and before you knew it you were staring down at the long, long concrete drop towards the ground. You knew there was no chance at getting your balance together in just the few seconds that you could think straight before you were letting out a terrified scream, feeling your body beginning to fall forward.

But before you could lean off the edge too much, you felt a strong grip clutch around your shirt and pull yank forward, hard enough to feel your body fall off the edge and roughly hitting a hard chest. When you felt your feet touch the pavement again and arms wrapped around your body, you knew it was safe to say you were okay. You were frozen for a moment, just staring down at the edge of the dam again; you heard your rapidly beating heart beat over Sam’s from standing so close next to him. Looking over your shoulder to see what had happened; you saw Andy standing there, holding the smoking gun that killed his brother.

\+ + +

“I’m fine.” You mumbled for the third time in a row, giving the paramedic a forced smile, hoping he would leave you alone. So you still might have been shaken up from the nearly fatal swan dive, the drop you could see clearly in the morning light still made your knees wobble in fright. But Sam came to the rescue just moments before you could lean over more than just a few inches again. You looked from the corner of your eye to see him sitting on the concrete edge, the paramedic’s partner was taking care the wound he had gotten during the fight. You quickly looked the other way, knowing that if either of you made eye contact for just a split second, both of you would start feeling guilty of how last night turned out.

So, you turned your attention over towards the one twin that was still alive; three officers were hovering over Andy and every lie that he was speaking, they were hooked towards. A small smile began to creep along your lips, once you got past the fact that he decided to have a little fun with you and Dean, he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. You felt sort of bad having to leave him with his own guilt from killing the only flesh and blood he had left, toward having to explain everything to Tracey—if she would ever talk to him. The look on her face while she sat in the back of the ambulance was nothing more than fear. But she would have questions, and he would have answers. That’s how it works.

“Look at him.” Sam said, speaking up for the first time about Andy as the paramedics began walking away. You almost were beginning to suspect he still was angry at what happened, but he seemed almost proud of the other man when he watched. “He’s getting better at it.”

But you knew there was no avoiding the situation when you watched as Andy tried to head up towards the other woman, but failed when she turned her head away, looking at something else in the distance, obviously not happy to see the man. So he quickly turned himself on his heels and walked away, defeated. You forced a small smile as you pushed your body off the concrete wall, heading up towards him with the brothers trailing behind in your footsteps.

“She won’t even look at me.” Andy muttered, looking down at his feet in sadness.

“Yeah, she’s pretty shaken up.” Sam added about the young woman.

“No, it’s–this is different.” Andy corrected the youngest Winchester. As he tried explaining how it was, you could tell he was feeling guilty of what he had done. You knew exactly what he was talking about. “This is–I never used my mind thing on her before, before last night. She’s scared of me now.”

“Give her time to adjust, this is all still so new to her.” You reassured the man with a warm smile, hoping that would be a little thing to lift up his spirits. “I promise, she’ll come around eventually.”

A small, awkward pause of silence fell between the four of you. The brothers and you exchanged a quick glance, knowing it was time to hit the road, again. “Andy, I hate to do this, but, um,” Sam started to break the news, quietly sighing before just saying it. “We have to get out of here. I wrote down my cell.” He pulled out a piece of paper with his digits messily scribbled down, hoping that it would be enough. “You don’t have to be alone in this, all right? If anything comes up, you can call me.”

You didn’t know what else to say to the man, and as if things couldn’t have ended more on an awkward note, you shifted your body around again and started heading towards the Impala. As you made about five steps, you heard Andy calling out. “Wh-What am I supposed to do now?”

“You be good, Andy,” Dean warned him, you weren’t sure if he was serious or trying to be a jokester about the situation. His face was neutral from emotion. “Or we’ll be back.”

Andy looked at the man with confusion, but took that as a warning. You trailed behind the brothers, suddenly just wanting to be off the bridge and away from all the chaos, curling up in a bed with a good, calm book suddenly seemed like a good idea. But you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be in your near future, it never was after dealing with these freaky kids. Whenever you met one of these special kids, there was a very distinct pattern that you couldn’t deny–people died; Jess, Max’s entire family, Andy’s twin brother.

“Looks like I was right.” Sam said, breaking the small silence had had fallen between the three of you. Turning your head, you squinted your eyes to make out his face, wondering what he was getting at. He had made a lot of accusations these past few days, it was hard to keep track.

“About what?” You asked, taking a large step so you were now walking with him.

“Andy. He’s a killer, after all.” Sam said, you could feel yourself rolling your eyes. You knew it was just a matter of time before he was rolling out this entire lecture of how all of them were evil, how he was just like them.

“No, he’s a hero.” You corrected him. “He saved his girlfriend’s life. He saved–Well,” You linked your arm in his, giving it a squeeze. “You saved my life. Still, he did what he had to do.”

“Bottom line,” Sam said, not seeming to be in the mood to change his thoughts of the entire situation, no matter how much of a hypocrite he was. “last night he wasted somebody.”

“Yeah, but he’s not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho.” Dean said, seeming to have been agreeing with you on this one. “He was just—he was pushed into that.”

“Webber was pushed, too,” Sam tried to argue his point, you gave him a look to stop talking, but he kept going. “In his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica’s death.”

“What’s your point, Sam?” You asked.

“Right circumstances, everyone is capable of murder—everyone.” Sam said, stopping in his tracks to keep adding to his theory that was beginning to make you grow annoyed with each word. “Maybe that’s what the demon is doing—pushing us, finding ways to break us.”

“We don’t know what that demon wants, okay?” Dean asked, slapping his brother on the shoulder. “Quit worrying about it.”

“You know, I heard you before, Dean,” Sam said, watching as his brother headed towards the car that was just a few feet away. “When Andy made you tell the truth. You’re just as scared of this as I am.”

“That was mind control!” Dean tried to defend himself. “It’s like being roofied, man. That doesn’t count. No, I-I’m calling a do-over.”

“What are you, seven?” You asked. Sometimes you wondered how he kept all of you alive for this long, his common sense wasn’t always the brightest and the comments he made weren’t very nice, either. Thankfully his hunter skills balanced out his stupidity.

“Doesn’t matter. We just to keep doing what we’re doing,” Dean said. “Find that evil son of a bitch, and kill it.”

It was more easier said than done; you still didn’t know where the colt was, where the hell this demon was or if there was a chance you could trap and kill it without the one piece that had lead of you here with a dead man from the job. You slipped yourself into the back seat and slammed the door shut, cutting off the phone conversation that was just about to begin between Ellen and Dean. You knew by the look that began to stretch across his face, it was something all of you would want to check out.

\+ + +

When you arrived back at the Roadhouse, Ellen greeted you all with a warm smile; you could see from her actions she wasn’t the type of person who allowed her daughter to hear about the hunting lifestyle or business that was involved. You sat at the bar, between the brothers, slowly nursing your drink after having been offered and watching from the corner of your eye as Jo did everything to linger around the place. She was waiting for the moment when her mother wasn’t paying attention and slipped up, getting ready to talk about the demon. But Ellen was smart, making sure to give her daughter a request before striking up the conversation you had been slightly dreading. There was so much talk about this demon these past few days.

“Jo? Go pull up another case of beer.” Ellen said, dropping the dishrag she was using towards the counter. Jo could only say one thing before her mother cut her off. “Now. Please?” She rolled her eyes, but did as was told, heading off towards the back of the bar and disappearing from sight. Your eyes flickered over towards Ellen, knowing it was now safe to talk freely. She headed up towards the three of you, leaning herself against the bar top. “So, uh, want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?” You and the brothers stared at one another for a few moments.

“Nope.” You mumbled, making patterns in the fogginess of the drink.

“Not really.” Dean continued with you, taking the draft of beer towards his lips. But when he caught sight of Ellen’s constant stare, he stopped in his actions, glancing over at you and his brother for a moment. “No offense. Just kind of a family thing.”

“Not anymore.” She reached for something underneath the counter and slammed it against the bar top. You froze in your movements when you saw the folder of all the papers that were of John’s research, all about the demon. And Ellen had read up on the information. “I got this stuff from Ash.” She stared at all of you for a second, waiting for either one of you to start, but when you still remained silent, she continued talking. “Andrew Gallagher’s house burned down on his sixth month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don’t you? You think it went after the Gallagher family?”

Dean rolled his eyes, obviously not liking the idea of some stranger poking their nose where it didn’t belong. Sam remained silent, knowing him, he was probably trying to say yes, but couldn’t find the courage. So you did it. “Yeah,” You said, breaking your concentration from your cup and looking back up at the woman. “We think so.”

“Y/N.” Dean mumbled your name, you ignored his tone.

“Why?” She asked, but before you could answer, Dean cut you off.

“None of your business.” Dean snapped and started trying being tough, Ellen was quick to put the man in his place, becoming annoyed with his macho attitude that he tried the flaunt around the woman whenever she tried to help solve this problem.

“You mind your tongue with me, boy.” She scolded him. What she said next made you realize everything you had seen, was just the calm before the storm. You wanted to sink down in your seat and pretended you didn’t hear anything. “This isn’t just your war. This is war. Something big and bad is coming, and it’s coming fast, and their side holds all the cards.” Now that seemed to have quieted the man down, he was listening. “Now, at best, all we got is us–together. No secrets or half-truths here.” A small pause fell over, as if you or Sam were waiting for Dean to get ready for another argument, but when the oldest Winchester was silent, the truth began to pour out again.

“There are people out there like Andy Gallagher,” Sam started to explain, but he knew it was just a matter of time before he had to bring it up. “Like me..and, um, we all have some kind of ability.”

“Ability?” Ellen asked, you wondered if she knew what Sam was talking about, but wouldn’t say it out loud, fearing that she might be right. That the boy across from her was a freak.

“Yeah.” Sam mumbled, shifting the wrist with the cast around a bit. “A psychic ability.” You quickly punched Dean in the thigh when he shook his head, obviously not liking the fact that his brother became an open book. “Me, I have, um…” He smirked slightly, obviously knowing how ridiculous this was about to sound when he said it out loud. “I have visions, premonitions.” But when he caught everyone beginning to grow tense, he stopped himself. “I don’t know. It’s different for everybody.”

“The demon said he had plans for people like them, for us.” You said, nodding your head towards the side where Sam was sitting. What came out next just happened. “Everytime I come into contact with this thing, it always seems to hint it wants me for something. Still trying to figure that one out. ” You mumbled cracking a small smile. “But you’re right, this thing is making special children and it wants them for something for his plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Ellen asked, you shrugged your shoulders.

“We don’t really know for sure.” Sam admitted.

“These people out there, these psychics,” Ellen began asking a question, you felt a small smirk that you didn’t even know for what reason, beginning to grow. “Are they dangerous?”

“No,” Dean said, speaking up again. You could his gaze go toward his brother. “Not all of them.”

“But some are.” Sam quickly added. ”Some are very dangerous.”

“How many?”

“We’ve been able to track a clear pattern so far.” You explained. “They’ve all had house fires on the night of the kid’s sixth month birthday.”

“That’s not true.”

You turned your head towards the youngest brother; your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not exactly happy to hear that he had some added information that he didn’t seem to tell either him or his brother until now. “What?”

“Webber or Asmen Weems or whatever his name is–I looked at his files, and there was no house fire.” Sam shared, just in time as Jo came back with the case of beer her mother had asked for. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Which breaks pattern.” Ellen said, you could feel everything beginning to become just a bit hazier as you heard her continuing to talk. The one chance at finding all of the kids that the demon wanted just went–poof. It was now like trying to find a needle in a haystack. “So if there’s any others like him, there would be nothing in the system, no way to track them all down.”

“And so who knows how many of them are really out there?” You mumbled to what felt like yourself, slowly finding yourself beginning to lose focus yourself on the small corner of the room, wondering why this job was so damn hard.

This case was like a fragile house of cards; while your parents had set up the foundation to track and kill this demon, you and the brothers thought following in their patterns was safe enough. But it seemed that while you continued to build the house with the belief you could track this monster down using a pattern, was the false move, sending everything tumbling down. All the hard work, hours of research, seemed like it was all just for fun. Everything just got a thousand times worse.

“Jo, honey?” Ellen called out towards her daughter, who was standing right behind her. But the older woman’s attention was strictly on you, not liking the color that seemed to have been slowly draining from your face because of the added stress from today. “You better break out the whisky instead. I think Y/N here needs something just a bit stronger.”


	6. No Exit.

“What’s in L.A.” Sam asked, watching as you shoved the last of the bags into the trunk of the Impala before stepping back and gesturing for his brother to shut it. You and the brothers were standing outside of the Roadhouse after spending a few extra days lingering around the place after the long, detailed decision of the information you had learned, which you were still processing, ever so slowly. But Dean decided it would be best to keep busy, like always, and it seemed that he had found something of interest for the three of you to work on for the meantime.

“A young girl’s been kidnapped by an evil cult.” Dean explained, heading over towards the driver’s side, with you and Sam following towards your usual spots in the car.

“Yeah?” You curiously asked, seeming intrigued by this case. This wasn’t the typical kind of stuff that all of you had look into, but satanists always have something up their sleeve to because some sort of chaos. “Does the girl have a name?”

Dean reached inside his jean pockets, pulling out the keys before telling you the name. You felt your face fall into an annoyed glare, knowing exactly what he was hinting. “Katie Holmes.” He said, you forced out a chuckle.

“That’s funny.” You joked, flashing him a smile. “And, for you, so bitchy.” Dean returned your comment with a grin, opening his mouth to say something, but yelling from the distance cut him off. It took you only a second to realize it was Jo that was screaming at her mother about something, and from what you could be heard, it was about hunting—Again.

“I’m going!”

“Over my dead body!”

“You’re flipping out over nothing!”

“Of course, on the other hand,” Dean said, turning around from the front door of the bar and back towards Sam and you. A frown stretched across your lips when you heard the Harvelle ladies were at it again. “Catfight.”

You and the brothers began heading towards the entrance of the bar, wondering what had gotten the family riled up first thing this morning. Quietly, as you could; you opened up the door to see the two women were standing just across the room, continuing to raise their voices and throw around chairs, not exactly a great way to start right before opening.

You could feel the air was nothing more than tension; Jo was standing with her hands on her hips, Ellen wasn’t even bothering to crack from her protective mother mode as she stormed around the room. All though you hadn’t known the older woman for a long period of time, you instantly knew she was just like your mother—not the type to just let her daughter do what she pleased. Well, you weren’t quite like Jo, who had confessed the other night that she wanted to do the hunting gig, and it seemed that she told her mother the idea, and Ellen’s reaction was exactly how she feared.

“Are you gonna chain me up in the basement?” You peeked your head out from the side of the door, seeing the women were still in the heated debate, not even noticing three strangers making their way to see what the commotion was all about.

“You’ve had worse ideas than that recently.” Ellen argued back, roughly shoving a chair that was sitting on the top of the table so she could squeeze past her daughter who was riding her tail like a little puppy, demanding to be played with. Ellen grabbed a bar stool and slammed it down towards the ground. “You don’t want to stay? Don’t—go back to school!”

“I don’t belong there!” Jo yelled, “I was a freak with a knife collection!”

“Getting yourself killed on some dusty back road—that’s where you belong?” Ellen questioned, her hands pressed against the table she was working on. But Jo fell silent when you felt her eyes on the three of you, and just a few seconds later, you saw her mother boring holes right into your forehead when she realized they weren’t alone anymore. “Guys, bad time.” She hissed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam said, throwing his hands up slightly and flashing a smile.

“We rarely drink before ten anyway.” Dean tried to joke, you quickly pulled on his sleeve and dragged him towards the front door, knowing if you didn’t get outta here soon, Ellen was going to start lecturing the three of you about privacy. There was something you didn’t miss about having a mother, it was the fighting that never seemed to have ended well. You didn’t know how, but your mother always had a way of making you lose the fight and doing what she wanted.

“Wait.” Jo said, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh, you really didn’t want to get dragged into this mess. It was too early. But you watched as she headed over towards the bar, grabbing the thing that has started this fight. “I want to know what they think about this.”

“I don’t think they care!” Ellen shouted.

“Are you guys open?”

An unfamiliar voice suddenly seemed refreshing to hear. Your head turned to see a family of four that had to be tourists from their matching “Nebraska is for Lovers” yellow t shirts, you bit your bottom lip to keep an inappropriate smile from spreading. The husband nervously looked at the five of you, wondering the answer.

“Yes!”

“No!”

His wife gave him a glare, obviously not liking the atmosphere for their twin boys they were carrying, who had to be no older than three. The man nervously chuckled, deciding this wasn’t the best place for his family. “We’ll just check out the Arby’s down the road.” He pointed towards the front door, smiling nervously again before they bolted for it, slamming the door behind them.

Just as they were about to go at it again, the phone started to ring, leaving the women to use only facial expressions to keep the fighting going. Jo glared at her mother, nodding her head slightly to answer the phone. Ellen stared at her daughter, waiting ever so patiently for her to start moving, but as the ringing continued, she let out a sharp sigh and headed toward the phone in defeat, knowing she couldn’t just let it go. As she began speaking on the other end, Jo took her chance at telling you and the brothers what had caused this fight in the first place.

Your eyes landed on a manila folder that she waved in front of your face, here was the case that she had been briefly talking about last night, the one that she had been working hard on behind on her mother’s back. She was serious about this. “Three weeks ago a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment.” She explains, waving the case file in Dean’s face for him to take a peek at it, but he just stared at it, not sure what to do with it. “Take it.” She tried to joke with him. “ It won’t bite.”

“No, but your mom might.” Dean said, eyeing the woman that still had her back turned towards the four of you, having no clue what was going on. Rolling your eyes, you snatched the folder from her hands and decided to be the brave one. When you examined the information, you had to admit, this was quite impressive work for an ammauture. Even you weren’t this good when you first started all those years ago.

“And this girl wasn’t the first. Over the past eighty years, six more vanished—all from the same building, all Y/H/C haired.” Jo explained what she had found. When she told you the last detail, you couldn’t help yourself but subconsciously run your fingers through your hair, hoping that no one has noticed this strange coincidence. Everyone remained silent so she could continue. “Only happens every decade or two so the cops never eyeballed the pattern.”

“So we’re either dealing with a very old serial killer that’s got a weird fetish,” You said, tossing off the folder toward the oldest brother’s awaiting hands. “Or, perhaps, we’re dealing with something supernatural.”

“Who put this together?” Dean asked, flipping through the information, he glanced up from the material and back at Jo. “Ash?”

“I did it myself.” Jo answered. Dean looked back down at the folder, almost seeming like he didn’t believe the other woman for a second.

“I got to admit,” Sam interrupted, deciding that he was interested in the case as much as you were. “We’ve hit the road for a lot less.”

“Good.” Ellen broke into the conversation, you looked over to see the woman was standing across from all of you with her hands on her hips. “If you’re so interested in the case, you take it.”

“Mom!”

“Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough.” She snapped, scolding her daughter. “I won’t lose you too. I just won’t.” mumbled the last part to herself.

\+ + +

You might have hit an all time low when it came to finding a hunt. You or the brothers didn’t seem to find anything that was more interesting the past few days than the one that Jo had been working on, so, you took it. This wasn’t your idea, it was more of Dean’s suggestion, grabbing the file that the young woman must have been working on for weeks. But if there was really something out there that was killing, you knew you couldn’t wait until Hell froze over and Ellen allowed her daughter to start this hunt. This needed to get done before the creature struck again.

During the drive toward Philadelphia; you spent most of it looking over the information again, making yourself clear with the patterns and the history of the place. Everything seemed to have been the same with each disappearance. All young women that were blonde, all just vanished without a trace. This was the work of a spirit or some kind of demon that had a weird fetish for Y/H/C or it was a very strange coincidence. Either way, you hoped this would be the last of it when you and the brothers took a sweep over the apartment, seeing first if this really was your thing.

Sam was keeping himself busying by picking the lock while you and his brother were the lookout, making sure the tenant didn’t see you or if some neighbors were taking a step out into the hall. But when you heard the deadbolt click back into place and the door swing open, you followed behind and took around to look at the apartment. Everything seemed to be in place; no furniture was tossed around to presume there was a struggle, old mail was sitting on the kitchen counter making it look like someone still lived here.

“I feel kinda bad,” You spoke up, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at the brothers. “Snaking Jo’s case. She worked really hard on this.”

“Well, maybe she put together a good file,” Dean started, sliding himself past you so he could start scanning the past with the EMF reader, “But could you see her out here working on these things? I don’t think so—" When he caught sight of your glaring face, he stopped talking, knowing if he did, it would only be offending you and the progress you’ve made the past months during the time spent together with them.

“You are idiots getting anything?” You asked, getting them back towards the case.

“No, not yet.” Sam answered, scanning around the room until he was facing the wall. His eyes wandered around the wall until something strange caught his eye in the light switch. He took a step forward and leaned down slightly. “What’s that?”

“What?” You asked, turning your attention away from the windows to see what he had found during the search. You walked forward and squinted, your eyes caught sight of a black substance running down from the naked switch. But when you saw Sam reach out to take a quick swipe of the substance with his finger, you immediately were taken back by the brave act, since this place wasn’t exactly neat. “Ew, don’t touch it! It could be mold.” You said, nose scrunching up slightly. All though, it seemed that it was something far different from what you had imagined from his reaction.

“Holy crap.” Sam muttered to himself.

Dean followed in his brother’s footsteps to take a sample of it himself. He ran the tip of his fingers to get a better feel of what it was. When he discovered, you saw his face stretch into surprise. “That’s ectoplasm.” He said. “Well, guys, I think I know what we’re dealing with here.” You raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. But your face fell when he answered. “It’s the stay-puft marshmallow man.”

“Seriously, what the hell is it?” You asked, beginning to grow impatient. “Spirit?”

Sam nodded his head, looking back at the light switch. “Dean, I’ve only seen this stuff like twice.” He admitted. “I mean, to make this stuff, you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit.”

“All right. Let’s find this badass before he snags anymore girls—or Y/N.“ Dean said, you rolled your eyes when he gave you a playful wink and nudge on the shoulder. It seems that they really caught on toward the horrible coincidence.

After making sure everything was locked up; you and the brothers headed down the hall again, getting ready to leave the building and do some more research of your own to find a possible person. But as you continued to make your way down the hall, a voice caught you off guard. And it was heading right in your direction. Quickly as you could, all of you tried to hide behind the wall, hoping whoever was heading down would make a turn.

“Yeah, it’s a great building. I fixed it up real nice.” The man explained. Great, someone else was ready to buy. “All the apartments come furnished, too.”

But the next voice that you heard, caught you off guard. “Yeah, I love the furnishing.” it was female, and by the familiar accent, you recognized it as Jo’s. You looked over at the brothers, a sigh of annoyance running out from your mouth. “It’s so spacious,” She continued, “And the location is so convenient for me.” She was sure milking this thing, a little bit too much, for your personal opinion.

As you heard footsteps beginning to come up toward the hall you were hiding in, you took your chance and jumped out, the brothers following behind in your actions. You gave her a serious look, placing your hands on your hips, not happy at her sudden appearance in this dangerous case. “What the hell are you doing here?” You asked, not in the mood for any of this right now

“There you are, big sis.” She said, breaking out into a grin. Your eyes flickered towards the man who was staring at the both of you, not sure he was seeing the resemblance.

Jo continued adding towards the story, heading up toward you and wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “This is my adopted sister, Y/N.” She introduced you toward the tenant, you forced a smile when she decided this wasn’t enough. As she headed up towards the oldest Winchester, you knew where this was going. “That’s Dean, my boyfriend, and his buddy Sam.”

“Good to meet you.” The tenant said, flashing the older man a smile. He put out his hand for them to shake. “Quite a gal you got here.”

“Yeah, she’s just like her sister,” Dean chuckled out. yanking on Jo when he caught her smiling herself. This wasn’t for her enjoyment. “She’s just a pistol!”

“So, did you already check out the apartment?” Jo asked, you and Sam looked at her with slight panic. “The one for rent?”

“Yeah. Yes. Loved it.” Dean said, smiling again. “Great flow.”

“How’d you get in?” The man asked, looking at Dean with suspicion.

“It was open.” You quickly said. “Made sure to check out myself. Nothing but the best for these lovebirds!”

“Now, Ed,” Jo got the conversation back toward the apartment again. “When did the last tenant move out?”

“Uh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too.” He said. “Stiffed me for the rent.”

“Well, her loss, our gain,” Jo said, breaking out into a grin, “‘Because if Deano loves it, it’s good enough for me.” You couldn’t help yourself but smile at the nickname she had given the older man. It was kind of cute.

“Oh, sweetie.” He said, smiling again, but he quickly shook her again.

Your eyes widened slightly when the young woman pulled out a rather impressive looking wad of cash from her jacket, waving it slightly in the man’s face. “We’ll take it.”

The tenant grabbed the money and began flipping through it. “Okay. Heh.” he mumbled, obviously becoming a very happy man. It looks like all of you have officially bought the first crime scene. Maybe having Jo around wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

\+ + +

It didn’t long for the four of you gotten yourselves comfortable in the apartment. You were happy to know that the place had two beds, but two couches that were up for grabs. You and Jo went at it first; a simple call of tails from a coin toss and you were happy to know that you had dibs on the bed. Sam was next, and to his luck got to pick the other bed. But knowing him, he would probably back down and give it to whoever got stuck with the uncomfortable looking leather recliner chair if they whined enough. But you weren’t going to back down; it had been ages since you slept in a clean, comfy bed.

“I’ll flip you for the sofa.” Jo said, knowing that with her recurring bad luck, she hoped that Dean would back down and be a gentleman, taking the uncomfortable sleeping spot.

You looked up from the papers that you were looking over from the table you were sitting on, Sam was to your right and Dean was on the left, sitting at the edge. Both of the brothers were cleaning and making sure the weapons they carried were in working conditions. Dean cocked back the gun he was holding, changing the subject toward one that you knew Jo really didn’t want to discuss.

“Does your mother even know you’re here?” He asked, looking at her, wanting a real answer. None of you wanted to face the wrath of a pissed off mother, that seemed to have scared him more than half the things that he hunted and killed.

“I told her I was going to Vegas.” Jo explained.

“You think she’s gonna buy that?” Dean asked, letting out a slight chuckle.

“I’m not an idiot.” She said, defending herself to the older man. “I got Ash to lay a credit-card trail all the way to the casinos.”

Dean shook his head, returning his gaze back toward the gun that he was holding in his hands. “You shouldn’t lie to your mom.” He said, continuing to lecture her. “You shouldn’t be here, either.” You bit the inside of your cheek when she glanced over at you, as if you were going to defend her, but you had to side with Dean on this one. So, you dropped your gaze back down toward the papers, remaining silent.

“Well, I am,” She snapped, “So untwist your boxers and deal with it.”

“I’m curious,” You tried to change the subject toward something that wouldn’t end in a lecture from either one of them. “Where did you get all that money, anyways?”

“Working at the Roadhouse.” She said.

“Hunters don’t tip that well.” Dean cut in, his face scrunching up with disbelief.

“They aren’t that good at poker, either.” She added, her eyes seem to dazzle at her point.

Dean rolled his eyes, getting himself off the table when he heard his cell phone beginning to ring. He shoved his hand inside his jean pockets and pulled it out, flipping it open and pressing it toward his ear. “Yeah?”

“Is she with you?”

“Oh, hi, Ellen.”

Your eyes jumped up from the paperwork when you heard the familiar woman’s name being said. It seems that the woman saw her daughter had vanished. Dean walked toward the other side of the table, listening toward what the mother was saying. “She left a note she’s in Vegas. I don’t believe it for a second.” You heard Ellen say, Jo quickly headed up toward the oldest brother, giving him a glare and mouthing for him not to say anything. You and Sam looked over at one another, not sure what to do as the others began to nonverbally fight. “Dean?”

“I haven’t seen her.” He broke down, putting the phone back toward his mouth to speak.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Well,” Ellen let out a defeated sigh, “Please, if she shows up, you’ll drag her butt back here, won’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Dean lied.

“Okay,” Ellen said. “Thanks, hon.”

Dean closed his phone, looking at the woman standing in front of him with anger. But Jo broke out into a grin, happy to know that she had thrown off her mother from her trail, yet again. You shook your head, not quite happy to see a girl like Jo wanting to waste her time with this kind of lifestyle. Sure you loved it, but this wasn’t for everyone. There was always more toward just wanting to hunt, you began to wonder what her motivation was.

\+ + +

Blueprints of the apartment building were spread across the table and all the information that Jo had searched for herself laid in two different sections. being looked over again by you and Sam. Jo sat across from you, making you become rather nervous as you watched her flick around her wrist and sway around a small pocket knife. But the way that she was moving it, you guessed she was pretty savvy with the sharp blade.

“This place was built in 1924.” Jo explained, looking over her shoulder, watching from the corner of her eyes Dean slowly paced around the room. “It was originally a warehouse. Converted into apartments a few months ago.”

“Yeah?” You asked, hoping there was something else that could explain what was going on. “What was here before 1924?”

“Nothing.” She said. Your face scrunched up in confusion. “An empty field.”

“So the most likely scenario—somebody died bloody in the building,” Sam said, looking up from the papers he was examining. “And now he’s back and raising hell.”

“I already checked. In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths,” Jo popped the youngest brother’s theory, “Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor.” She quickly pointed the tip of the knife at the other man, becoming annoyed with his footsteps that she could hear from behind. “Would you sit down, please?”

Dean rolled his eyes, but listened, heading over toward the empty chair that was between you and the other woman, and dropped himself down. “So, have you checked the police reports, county death records?” He questioned, continuing to grill her, but Jo was one step ahead of the man.

“Obituaries, mortuary reports, and seven other sources.” She said, turning her head to look at the man. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I think the jury’s still out on that one.” Dean remarked, giving the woman a smug look. Jo averted her attention toward the table, continuing to twist around the blade. “Would you put the knife down?” She stopped spinning it around, only to give him a glare.

“Okay.” Sam spoke up, deciding that it was enough bickering between the two. “So, uh, it’s something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it.”

“We would have to scan the whole building.” You said.

“Right. Sam, you’re with Y/N. Both of you can do the bottom floors and work your way up.” Dean looked over at Jo, a smirk spreading across his lips. “That leaves you and me—we’ll do the top two floors.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the only thing came out was a sigh of annoyance, knowing that Dean was going to lecture you about you being a possible causality. So, you shut your mouth and looked over at Sam, a small spreading across your lips. But it seemed that Jo wasn’t too happy about the plan of action, and unlike you, she wasn’t afraid to speak up, unaware of the possible consequences.

“We’d move faster if we split up.” Jo said, sliding herself out from the chair and following behind the man.

“Oh, this isn’t negotiable.” He said, cracking a smirk, knowing he was right on this one. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Okay kids, that’s enough.” You mumbled, softly slapping your hands on the table and standing up, quickly becoming tired of their constant bickering. “Jo,” You looked over at the young woman, “Word of advice—do what he says, no matter how annoying it can be. And Dean,” You averted your eyes at the oldest brother. “Shut up. Let’s just hunt this damn thing and be done with it. Okay?”

\+ + +

It had been too long since you’ve slipped into a bed with clean sheets that didn’t smell off and a mattress that you could just sink into, and while on any other case, you would have found yourself enjoying the shameless luxury. But after what Jo and Dean had found last night while searching the apartment had turned out to be something none of you were expecting; they had found locks of human hair, as if it was yanked out of someone’s skull, just lying in the space between the walls. When all of you had began suspecting the spirit was just lurking around and keeping souvenirs from his victims, it didn’t make the idea of sleeping a very pleasing thought, knowing you were the exact type that he loved to hunt.

You tossed and turned around in bed until you saw the sun peek through the closed blinds and the alarm stuck just a few minutes before seven. You made yourself get up and start the day; you dragged your body toward the duffel bag that you had lying in a chair, picked out some clothes and juggled your toiletries before quietly making your way toward the bedroom door. You peeked your head out to see that the bathroom was clear, giving you your chance to take a quick shower before anyone else could claim it.

As you began making your way down the path, you caught sight of two familiar faces that were sitting at the table, who looked like they were dressed for the day. You stopped in your spot and looked at Jo and Sam, looking at them with astonishment. “Do I wanna know if either one of you slept?” You asked, eyeing them both.

Jo shook her head, turning her attention back toward the papers and outline of the building again, everything looking as it was when you went to bed. It seemed she was just as committed as you were at tracking this spirit down, after all. Sam, on the other hand, had admitted to getting a few hours of peace and quiet before he was rudely woken up by his brother’s constant grunts and complaints about his sleeping arrangements after Sam switched with Jo for the couch and still ended up with the recliner.

You looked over to see that Dean was in fact, passed out in the leather chair; he was lying on his stomach with one arm tucked underneath his body and the other resting on his back. You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head slightly, not sure how comfortable was, or how he even managed to sleep at all.

“I was gonna make a quick coffee stop.” Sam said, breaking you from your concentration on his brother. You nodded your head, putting your attention back on him. “Either of you want anything?”

“Something warm with lots of sugar.” You answered, letting out an unwanted yawn when you began to feel the lack of sleep. “And grab me something to eat. I’m starving.”

“Yes, princess.” Sam teased you, knowing how irritable you could be without your caffeine fixed in the morning. You rolled your eyes, flashing him a smile.

“Just move, Winchester.” You warned him. As you headed off toward the bathroom, you turned around and pretend to give him a threatening look, knowing it was all in fun. “Or else a homicidal ghost isn’t going to be your only problem.“ Sam brushed off tour words with a laugh and a wave, saying something about wasting time and start getting ready for the day.

You shut the bathroom door shut and placed the belongings down on the counter, you made yourself busy and stepped next the shower, twisting around the knobs until you felt a warm spray from the water coming from above. Stripping off your night clothes, you stepped inside the tub and got yourself clean and smelling of your favorite scents. A little while later, you made yourself step out when you felt the water begin to go cold. You grabbed the towel that was hanging off the rack and wrapped it around your body, heading toward the foggy mirror to wipe the steam away with the palm of your hand.

A sigh escaped your mouth when you caught sight of your damp hair, still not happy that you decided to be apart of this case, even after finding out the thing you were hunting had took a sick pleasure toward a shade of color that you were given. And God knows what it did to them, but you knew from the locks of hair that you had found, it must have killed them and left souvenirs for him to enjoy later. A ghost that had habits of a serial killer—how wonderful.

You got yourself dressed and did your normal routine, passing through the apartment again to see that Dean was still passed out and Jo was at work, twisting around the knife as she read through the files. You shoved your belongings into your duffel bag and zipped it back up. As you headed back out toward the open space around, you flashed a small smile at Jo and headed over toward her, crossing your arms over your chest and watched as she worked. Her eyes were fixated on something for one minute than the next she was grabbing another piece of paper, looking over that material, all while she flicked around that tiny little knife.

You grabbed a bag that was sitting next to your feet and plopped it toward the table; it was the bag that the brothers had used to stuff in a few different kind of weapons that they were going to use on the hunt. You felt around for something until your fingers touched the cold leather pouch, pulling out, you had grabbed the hunting knife you had grown used toward carrying. Opening it up, you pulled out the long blade and flipped it around so you were holding the sharp blade and the handle was pointing in her direction.

“Here.” You said, nodding for her to take it.

“What’s this for?” She asked, grabbing the knife from you and stared at it for a moment.

“If you so badly want to become a hunter, I suggest getting yourself comfortable with the big ones. This one is my favorite, but I’ll let you play with it, see how you like it.” You said, placing your hands on your hips. “And it’ll work a hell of a lot better than that little stick you’ve been twirling around.”

Jo looked down at the knife that you had given her, but after a second, she handed over the one she was attached toward. Your fingers touched the warm handle from her hold and examined the way it felt in your hands and the sharpness of the blade. When you flipped over the knife, you furrowed your eyebrows slightly, seeing something carved into the metal. Your eyes jumped toward her again when she spoke up, obviously noticing that you had caught the initials. “William Anthony Harvelle.” Your mouth dropped slightly, realizing this was her father’s knife. That’s why she was so attached to it.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, giving it back to her. “My mistake.”

You grabbed the leather case and shoved the knife back into the small space, making sure it was tuck away before your attention was brought toward Jo again. “What do you—What do you remember about your dad?” She asked you, the question caught you off guard, you gave her a confused look. “What’s the first thing that pops into your head?”

“He died when I was two,” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “There’s nothing.”

“What about your mom?” She asked, deciding to try another parent. You had told her a little bit about the woman, mentioning a few times that she was a hunter, but nothing more abou the grisly past that had lead you here. Jo caught the sight of your face of apprehension, she flashed you a small smile, “Come on. Tell me.”

You pulled out a chair so you were sitting across from her, you tried to think about a memory for a moment, anything that seemed good enough to tell. “She was a lot like your mom, very protective, tough as nails. But she always knew the right thing to say when I was upset.” You said, feeling a small smile spread across at the tip of your lips when you thought about the woman.

A story popped into your head after all, something that you couldn’t help yourself but let out a chuckle, knowing how your mother reacted from your actions wasn’t something she normally would have done, but it felt like her, the real person that she tried to hide away from you.

“I was about eight years old when I came home school, crying my eyes out because some fifth grader pushed me down, skinned my knees and took my favorite toy. She was pissed.” You said, smiling as you continued the story. “We tried getting the girl into trouble, but turns out, her parents were huge donors towards the school, or something like that, nothing happened. I tried to play it off as it wasn’t a big deal—but then it happens again. I see this bully picking on some other kid. Something inside of me just snaps.”

“What happened?” Jo asked, nodding her head for you to continue.

“I ended up running over and pushing down the bully, kicking her until she promised not to hurt anyone else.” You said, biting your bottom lip, knowing it wasn’t exactly the best thing you could have done to handle the situation. “My mom came to the school and I thought she was gonna kill me from the look in her eye. But…But I remember her comment, mumbling underneath her breath of how much I’m like her. And I can still see the look in her eye, how much she was trying not to laugh at how all of this turned out. I was always the type to help people out, she said, even when it could lead me into trouble.”

“She would be proud of you, to see where you are now.” She mumbled, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a quiet laugh at her comment, but you mumbled a thank you.

“What about your dad?” You asked, growing curious to see what story she was going to share with you.

“I was still in pigtails when my dad died, but,” She looked down at the knife, continuing her story. “I remember him coming home from a hunt. He’d burst through that door like–like Steve McQueen or something. And he’d sweep me up in his arms, and I’d breathe in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom—who was sour and pissed from the minute he left—she started smiling again.” You couldn’t help yourself but smile a little bit yourself at the thought. “And we were…we were a family.”

You and her fell into a small silence, having reflections on what both of you had admitted toward one another. It seemed that you and Jo had a lot more in common than you thought. “You know, you don’t have to prove yourself to Dean or your mother of why you want to do this.” You said. “We all have our reasons.”

“I do it because this is my way of being close to him. It’s the only thing I can think about, I don’t care about getting hurt.” Jo admitted. “Now, tell, me what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. And you know, I think that’s the reason why I keep doing this.” You said, tracing patterns in the blue prints. “I feel like my mom hid another part of herself when she got married and settled down, her hunting side. I found a journal she kept when she was still in the business, and boy, she seemed so…full of hope. Like she knew she was making a difference in this world.” You looked back up at Jo. “And for once, I can say the same for myself.”

“Like mother, like daughter.”

Both of you ended up talking about other topics that drifted from school memories toward funny moments you remembered during hunts with the brothers, Jo talked about working at the Roadhouse and recollected more stories about her parents. A chorus of laughter from a story about something had brought the oldest Winchester stirring awake. Looking over your shoulder, you watched in amusement as he lifted himself up from the chair, groaning from the stiff muscles. A smirk spreading across your lips when you and him made eye contact, his eyes squinted as he was still half asleep.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” You greeted in chipper voice, finding him looking around all disoriented and dazed kind of adorable from how he always acted around you before.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean nearly growled out, his voice low from the sleep he was trying to brush off.

“Went to get coffee.” Jo answered, continuing to flick around the knife and turning her attention back toward the information that sat in front of her. You did the same, knowing it was time to start buckling down and see anything that could be of us. But the two of you made eye contact again, matching smiles stretching across your faces when you heard Dean beginning to groan in pain from his stiff muscles as he made his way off the chair.

“Ohh. My back.” He mumbled out, pushing himself off the recliner and heading up toward the both of you. “How’d you two sleep on that big, soft bed.”

“I didn’t.” Jo said. “I’ve just been going over everything.”

“Barely caught a wink. Guess the guilt of having you to suffer out here made me toss and turn.” You joked, watching as he slowly made his way over toward the empty seat that was next to yours. He flashed you a sarcastic smile, mumbling something underneath his breath before you kicked him in the shin, but not doing much force since you were barefoot at the moment.

But the attention in the room quickly became focused on the front door when it swung open, revealing Sam, but with nothing in hand. You frowned, not happy to see that hadn’t returned with what he promised. “Where’s the coffee?” Dean asked, a bit aggravated himself.

“There are cops outside.” Sam said, bringing all of you the news. That explained the distant sirens you had heard earlier. “Another girl disappeared.”

The three of you looked at one another, not happy to hear the news. It seemed that this spirit was at it again, and he was moving quicker than you had liked.

\+ + +

Pressure was beginning to crack down on you; all the papers that Jo had found and the ones of your own had been printed out and were now scattered across the table in a messy pile. Sam, Jo and you were observing every piece of paper with a watchful eye as Dean was out and about to learn more information about the woman that had disappeared. As you observing two photographs you had printed out a few hours ago, your attention was ripped away toward the slamming door, seeing Dean stepping inside the apartment with more information to share with all of you

“Theresa Ellis—apartment 2-F.” He said, closing the door behind him and heading up toward the three of you. “Her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn.”

“And her apartment?” Jo asked, her eyes following the man.

“Cracks all over the plaster—walls, ceiling.” Dean explained. “There’s ectoplasm, too.”

“Between that and the tuft of hair, I’d say the sucker’s coming from the walls.” Sam said, saying out loud what you were fearing most.

“But who is it?” Dean questioned, knowing that all of you had a lack of suspects it tended to make the job a little bit harder to do when there were no fingers to point. “The building’s history’s totally clean.”

Suddenly a thought began to form in your mind. All of you might have been focusing a bit too much on the building. But not what the ground was built on. You shoved around a few pieces of paper until you grabbed a photograph of the building, which at the time, was only a piece of land. But what sat next to it caught your interest, knowing the history of all this wasn’t exactly pure. “Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place.” You said.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, not getting what you were hinting at.

“Check this out.”

You handed over the photograph toward the brothers, letting them take a peek around, waiting for them to notice what you had. “An empty field?” Sam asked, looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You rolled your eyes, surprised that not even him had gotten it.

“It’s where the building was built. Take a look at the one next door.” You said, reaching out a hand to point at the top of the building. “The windows.”

It was a few seconds until Sam’s face lit up, getting what you had been hiring at. “Bars.”

“We’re next door to a prison?”

“Home sweet home.”

\+ + +

Jo had decided in order to save some time, she called up Ash to see what he could have learned around the prison. You watched as she slowly paced around the room, mumbling and nodding her head, a few minutes later she was saying goodbye in a way that you had found a bit amusing. She knew exactly how to get this man to do whatever she wanted with a simple empty threat she probably would never do.

“Thanks Ash, oh, and if you breathe a word of this to my mom—” She headed toward you, nodding her head again when the man finished her threat. “That’s right. I will. With pliers.” She shut the phone and twirled around slightly so she could grab the photograph again, getting ready to tell of yi what she had quickly learned.

“Okay. Moyamensing Prison,” Jo said, “built in 1865, torn down in 1963. And get this—they used to execute people by hanging them on the empty field next door.”

“Well, then, we’re gonna need a list of people

who were executed there.” Sam said, seeming as this was the only real lead either one of you had came across that was beginning to make sense.

“Ash is already on it.” Jo said, you suddenly could feel yourself breathe a little easier.

Sam pulled up his laptop to grab the email of names the genius had sent over, but when you watched as he scrolled through all the people, the hope that you once had was beginning to dwindle into nothing. The list just went on, and on, and on. “157 names?” Sam mumbled, not very happy at the list of possible suspects of who it could be.

“We gotta narrow that down.” Dean said, standing over his brother’s shoulder. You tossed him a look, knowing he was just stating the obvious now. “Or else we’re gonna be digging a hell of a lot of stiffs.”

You watched as Sam kept scrolling for another few seconds until he had found a name that caught his attention. And yours too. He highlighted it and read it out loud, you wondered why it was so familiar. “Herman Webster Mudgett?”

“Yeah?” Jo asked, the woman looked at him, not sure what he was thinking. All of you were silent for a few moments as you thought about some more. But when you made the connection, you looked at the brothers.

“Wasn’t that H. H. Holmes real name?” You slaked, an eyebrow beginning to stretch up.

Dean looked back at the computer, his face dropped when he realized him who all of you were dealing with. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He mumbled underneath his breath.

“Get up.” You said, nodding your head at Sam. He got out of the chair so you could take over the computer to conduct a feeling that began to sit heavy in your mind. You pulled up a new browser and began getting yourself lost in searching through a few articles until you caught an old one that read a head title that made your heart begin to pound in your chest. It was really him.

This can’t be happening. You’ve dealt with a lot of psychos and twisted spirits, but not one that was the serial killer that started it all here in the states.

“Yup.” Dean, who was hovering over your shoulder and watching you move like a hawk, had verbally confirmed what you feared All along. He read the article until he looked up at the other two. “Holmes was executed in Moyamensing on May 7, 1896.”

“H. H. Holmes himself.” Sam muttered, shaking his head with a growing smirk at the end of his lips, obviously enjoying the fact that all of you were dealing with a legend. But none of you seemed as enthusiastic as he was. “Come on. I mean. What are the odds?”

“Who is this guy?” Jo asked, looking between the three of you to fill in the gaps.

“The term ‘multi-murderer'—they coined it to describe Holmes. He was America’s first serial killer.” You said, explaining what you had knew about the infamous man. “Before anyone else knew what a serial killer was.”

“He confessed to twenty-seven murders.” Sam interjected, telling more information that made you squirm uneasy in your seat. “But some put the death toll in at over a hundred.”

Running your fingers through your hair to stop the nervous feeling that began to sit again on your nerves, you immediately dropped it back toward your lap when you caught Dean staring at you. “And his victim flavor of choice—” Cue all eyes toward the top of your head. “Pretty, petite Y/H/C.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending that none of this was bothering you. Hell, you’ve faced monster that would have given him a run for his money. “He uh, used to chloroform to kill them. Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night.” That meant this spirit was really Holmes, after all. Your eyes drifted across the table to see the hair that was still inside the plastic bag and the different photographs you pulled up from his victims. But your attention shifted upward again when Dean spoke again.

“At his place, cops found human remains, bone fragments and long locks of bloody Y/H/C hair. Boy,” You could feel his eyes on you again. "he sure knew how to pick them.”

“We just find the bones, salt them, and burn them, right?” You asked, looking at Sam, hoping he would have a positive answer. But the look that began to stretch across his face made your body sag down slightly in your seat from the frustration.

“It’s not that easy. His body is buried in town but,” Sam said, you gave him a look to continue, a small smirk spread across his lips. “it’s encased in a couple of tons of concrete.”

“What?” You asked, forcing out a small chuckle. “Why?”

“The story goes that he didn’t want anybody mutilating his corpse ‘cause you know,” Dean said, smiling slightly. “it’s what he used to do.”

“You know something?” Sam jumped up from his spot at the edge of the table, leaning over so he was shuffling through the papers. “We might have an even bigger problem than that.”

“How does this get bigger?” Jo asked.

“Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago they called it the murder castle.” Sam pointed toward an old photograph that you instantly recognized, knowing of all the horrors that happened in the walls. “The whole place was a death factory. They trap doors, acid vats, quicklime pits. He built these secrete chambers…”

“Inside the walls.” You finished after he paused for a few seconds. You licked your lips before speaking up again. “He would lock his victim in, keep them alive for days. Some, he’d suffocate. Others,” You watched as Sam pulled out another photograph of a deceased woman that was one his many victims. “He’d let starve to death.”

“So Teresa could still be alive.” Jo said, pointing a finger against the ground, she had. look of disbelief. “She could be inside these walls.”

“We need sledgehammers, crowbars.” Dean said, getting up from where he was leaning, obviously not wanting to waste anytime. “We got to smash these walls anywhere think enough to hide a girl.”

\+ + +

Two floors later and no success; you watched as Dean whacked the wall of the third level of the building away until you saw an opening big enough for you and him to squeeze through. You had been on the phone with Sam, catching everyone up on the progress that had been going down and what not. You forced yourself in after the oldest brother, trying to get used toward the closed spaces and little to no light as you followed behind.

“Okay. Call us after you check the southeast wall.” You ended the call and shoved the phone back into your pocket, managing to dodge your head on a thick pipe before ducking. “Sam and Jo are almost done with the first floor. Hasn’t found jack squat, either.”

Both of you made your way through the tight quarters, brushing up against the wooden walls and spiderwebs that made you flinch in discomfort. But it was just a few moments before you saw Dean stop, making you nearly topple into him when you weren’t paying attention. “What is it?” You asked, trying to look over his shoulder.

“It’s too narrow.” Dean said, flashing his light around at the small spac. “We can’t go any further.”

“Let me see.” You mumbled, putting up your flashlight to see there was plenty of room for just you. So, you tried your hardest to squeeze past him.

“What are you—” But his words died on his lips when he felt your body squeeze into the small crack that he had left, making both of your bodies pressed together. For you, it was awkward, but the comment that came rolling out of his mouth made you cheeks begin to feel like they were on fire. “I should have cleaned the pipes.”

“What?” You asked, standing still for just a moment, your back was pressed against his chest and his arms were pinned against the wall to keep them from touching you. You crank your head up to stare at him, wondering what you heard was the right thing, after all.

“I wish the pipes were clean.” Dean mumbled, looking at the exposed ones above trying to correct himself.

“Shut up!” You hissed, punching him hard enough in the chest. “I can fit in there.”

“You’re not going in there by yourself.” He said, giving you a serious look.

“Well, unless you can somehow shrink yourself two sizes, I’m going in. Or do you have any better ideas, smartass?” You asked, he opened his mouth to tell you otherwise, but the words died at his tongue. “Mm-hmm. Thought so.”

You made yourself take one giant step until you were now standing in the small spacing, being able to hear Dean grunting from the pain that you inflicted on him, but you made your way down, taking a corner before you were by yourself in the dark, closed space. Taking a deep breath, you made yourself continue, knowing there could be an innocent woman, scared out of her mind, stuck inside this space. You walked around a bit more, heading around another corner until you heard the familiar sounds of your phone ringing.

You shoved your hand inside your pocket and pulled out your phone again, hitting the send button before pressing it toward your ear. “Where are you?” It was Dean, who was wasting no time in tracking you down.

“By the north wall.” You said, trying to retrace your steps. You headed down another corner and took a step on a small ledge, looking down, you saw an opening that was just big enough going down.

You set your phone and flashlight down for just a moment and turned yourself around, lowering your legs first, you kicked around slightly until your feet touched something metal. You locked yourself onto a step when you realized it was a latter, when you felt it as safe enough, you grabbed your phone and pressed it between the crook of your neck and ear, climbing your way down. “I’m heading down some kind of air duct. I’ll see where it goes.”

“No, no, no, no.” Dean argued your idea. “Stay up here.”

“We got to find this girl, don’t we?” You asked him. “I’m okay. I’ve handled scarier things than some psycho who’s got a fetish for a hair color.”

“All right. Dean mumbled, letting out a sigh of defeat, knowing you were right. “I’m heading to you.”

When the other line when silent for a few moments, you made your way down until you had to jumped at few feet, managing to land with only a slight tumble. You composed yourself and kept walking with one hand keeping the phone pressed toward your ear and the other letting the flashlight guide your way. You made it a few feet until you found an obstacle of two metal pipes against either side of the wall, you tried to force through, but you couldn’t get any further.

You let out a grunt of annoyance, turning your head toward the wall in defeat, but when you caught sight of something—black ooze pouring through the cracks of the walls. You knew your worst fear about this hunt was about to come true. Funny how things had went from complicated to worse in just a few seconds flat. Your luck lately on these hunts has been running low, and you knew it was all about to get a hell of a lot worse.

“Oh, God.” You mumbled, your tone coming out more frightened than you thought it would be.

“What is—” You heard Dean’s voice over the phone before everything on the other line became static. A frustrated sigh of annoyance fell from your lips, hoping that you had time before you could slip away. You tried your hardest to squeeze through the pipes, making it just far enough to feel your body become free from the tight space, but before you could make another step, you felt something wrap around your ankle.

Looking down, your eyes widened when you saw that someone’s grimy fingers were wrapped around it, and with a forceful tug, you felt your body land roughly against the cold, harsh ground with a painful thud. But before you could even grab something to hold onto, you felt your body being dragged backwards into the darkness, leaving behind your cell phone and flashlight that had dropped toward the ground from the unexpected attack.

You knew the only thing that became clear between you and Dean on the phone was the piercing scream that erupted from your throat, it echoed off the brick walls as you were forced into the darkness. Your nails roughly scraping against the concrete, as if you were going to win this fight. But just a second later, everything stopped. You felt the hand that was around your ankle disappear. You were left to believe you were alone.

But something sickly sweet began to fill the air. Different from the mold and dust smells that you had grown used to from above You took a few sniff, but when you felt your body begin to grow strange, you immediately knew what it was from the books you read that had brought it into play either as a way to knock out their victims or an old anesthetic doctors used to use. What Dean had told you earlier from the other girl that had disappeared. It was chloroform. Just seconds later after taking a few more deep breaths, everything went pitch black.

\+ + +

Dean ran down the hallway, once at at speeding walk that slowly turned into a jog, trying to figure out where you could have ended up. After breaking down the wall where he had last heard you, he made the gruesome discovery to see that the only thing that was behind was just your cell phone. He was so lost in thoughts, he didn’t seem to see someone else coming in the opposite of his direction. He roughly brushed shoulders with the person, making them both mumble and oomph from the pain they felt. Dean opened his mouth to yell at the stranger, but when he made eye contact with his brother, the truth just fell from his lips before he could stop himself. It seemed the fear of the situation was clouding his judgement.

“He’s got Y/N.” Dean said, turning around in the hall to ignore his brother’s looks of concern and Jo’s gaping mouth, surprised at the gritty turn of events that no one had expected to happen, after all.

“What?” Sam questioned, following behind his brother. “How’d that happen?”

“I wasn’t with her. I left her alone.” Dean admitted. Suddenly a wave of guilt washed over him, after being so careful on the previous hunts, the lack of better judgement could have been a faulty step in not getting you back alive. “Damn it!” He shouted in frustration.

“Look, we’ll find her.” Jo said, nearly running to catch up with the man that was twice her size. She could feel his eyes burn with anger when he looked at her again.

“Where?” Dean nearly barked at the younger woman, obviously not in the mood for guessing games right now.

“Inside the walls.“ Sam stepped into the conversation again, hoping that would have calmed his brother down. But Dean immediately shot that possibility down.

“We were inside the walls. None of the other girls are in there.” Dean said. “She won’t be, either.”

"Look, take a bear and think about this.” Sam opened up the door toward the apartment and stepped inside with everyone following behind, heading back toward the table with all the information of the infamous serial killer still lying around. “Maybe we got Holmes’ M.O. wrong.”

“Well, we better friggin’ think fast.” Dean muttered. But to his annoyance, his cell phone started ringing when he now stood at the table. He put the sledgehammer he was carrying down and shoved his hand inside his pocket, pulling out his cell. Pressing it toward his ear, he answered. “Yeah?”

“You lied to me. She’s there.” Dean quickly turned around in his spot, his eyes landing on the blonde that was leaning over the table, making herself buy with looking over information. When he said her mother’s name, her face quickly became stricken with panic. This wasn’t exactly the right time for a fight to be threatening to break out. “Ash told me everything. The man’s a genius, but he folds like a cheap suit. Now, you put my damn daughter on the phone.”

“She’s gonna have to call you back.” Dean tried making up an excuse when Jo moved around her hand, not exactly wanting to waste her time with her mother that would only lecture her. “She’s, uh, taking care of feminine business.”

“Yeah, right.” Ellen said, not buying the pathetic lie Dean made up on the spot. In a harder tone, she asked him again. “Where is she?” But the silence fell between everyone, Jo still didn’t want to do it, but when she heard her mother screaming over the phone, just wanting to know that her daughter was safe. “Where is she?!”

Jo quickly pushed herself up from the table and snatched the phone from the man’s hand, taking a deep breath before speaking toward her mother. "Mom—Mom!” She had to scream herself to get the woman to stop lecturing her about the choices she made behind the woman’s back. She could feel the brothers’ eyes on her every once in awhile as they busied themselves with work. “We have more pressing matters right now. No…I told you, I’m fine. You don’t need—”

But Jo was quickly cut off from the conversation when Dean stepped back in, ripping the phone away and pressing it back toward his ear. “Look, Ellen, we’ll call you back later. Things got complicated here. We don’t exactly have time for this.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She hissed, obviously not happy at the lack of answers she was getting. “Is everyone alright?”

Dean let out a breath, closing his eyes at what he was about to say. “Not exactly. The spirit we’re hunting—it took Y/N.” He said. But the reaction he got from Ellen was something that he wasn’t expecting, she was just as concerned for the woman, acting as if this attack happened on her daughter, instead. “Look, just calm down. We’ll get her back. It’s not like—”

“You better mind your tone with me.” She scolded him, doing as she did before when the man gave her unwanted lip. “I have known Y/N when she was still growing in her mother’s stomach. Hell, I knew Ella even before your father. If her mother were alive today, boy, she would give you a lot more hell than what I am going to give you.”

“She’ll be okay.” Dean said, trying to calm the woman down. “I promise.”

“You promise?” Ellen repeated, anger was laced in her words, acting as if what he had just said was a cruel joke. “That is not the first time I’ve heard that from a Winchester.”

“What?” Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“If anything happens to her or my daughter—”

“It won’t. I won’t let it.” Dean mumbled. “Ellen, I’m sorry for dragging Jo into this mess. I really am.”

“I’m taking the first flight out.” Ellen said, not caring for the promises anymore. “I’ll be there in a few hours.” And with that news just adding to the pile of stress, he heard the line disconnect and the shrilling sound of the dial tone.

“Damn it!” Dean yelled out in anger, he turned his attention back toward the two other people that were still hard at work. Jo was taken back by his tone, shifting her attention back toward the papers, knowing what her mother said must not have been good news.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Dean.” Sam tried to calm his brother down before his anger could escalate with consequences. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

“Tell me either one of you got something.” He said, hoping the next thing he heard was good news. He needed something positive to keep himself from getting lost in the thought that you could really end up hurt.

“Uh, maybe.” Sam mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows when he looked back down at the papers and blueprints sat in front of the three. Jo, had been mostly quiet since all of them had arrived back, seemed to have found something that could have been of use.

“Look.” Jo shifted around some papers until the sketch of the layout of the warehouse was shown. “if you look at the layout of the Holmes murder castle, there’s other torture chambers inside the walls, right?” The brothers nodded their head, listening to what the woman had to say. “But there’s one we might not have considered yet—the one in his basement.”

“This building doesn’t have a basement.” Dean pointed out.

“You’re right. It doesn’t. But I just noticed this. Beneath the foundation, it looks like part of an old sewer system.” Jo explained, looking back up at the man. “It hasn’t been used for—" Before she could finish her sentence, Dean was on board with the half baked idea.

“Let’s go.” Dean said, heading straight for the door. Jo and Sam looked at one another, shrugging off the idea that this might not have been where you were, but it was the only thing they had going for them.

\+ + +

When you regained consciousness, you didn’t want to open up your eyes just yet, wanting to pretend for a few moments longer that this wasn’t happening. But you knew from our other senese, you couldn’t deny it. You could feel something cold and rough prickling the back of your arms and neck; your hair was flattened out and knotted from the struggle you had endured earlier. The sounds of water dripping in the distance made it known you must have been underground, away from any other human contact. Finally, you forced yourself to open your eyes, only to be greeted with darkness.

Tapping your hands around, you forced yourself to reach the spare flashlight you had stuffed in your back pocket, knowing it as for emergencies, but not exactly having one like this in mind. You fumbled around a bit, forcing yourself to turn on the light and make that gruesome discovery. You looked around to see four walls were around you, almost like a coffin sized cage, keeping you in place from making an escape.

You nervously gulped, knowing you weren’t the type of person to be afraid of closed spaces, but you barely had enough room to move your legs and arms, but you couldn’t sit up like you hoped. You had to presume it was almost a little bigger than a coffin. With shaky hands, you slowly lifted the flashlight up toward the top, another frightening scene caught your eye. Claw marks were edged into the worn out metal, probably from his other victims that he kept in here before he decided what to do with them. Your fingers traced them, feeling the sharp edges brush against your skin. You quickly dropped it back down to keep yourself from beginning to make yourself go toward the edge.

You glanced around the small space, trying to see where the hell you were, and when you turned on your head toward the left, a slit in the wall caught your attention. Quickly, you shifted around until you leaned against the wall, trying your hardest to see what was out there. You glanced around the place to see that it looked like some sort of dungeon from the intimidating gray concrete walls and from what openings there was, they were barred off. But before you could look any further, a slamming of a door caught you off guard.

“Hello?” You heard a female voice call out, timid, but loud enough for you to hear. “Is—Is anybody there?” A sigh of relief escaped your mouth, realizing it was the woman you had been looking for in the first place, was alive, after all. That might have been the best thing that’s happened you since you took this case, even with your situation.

“Your name’s Teresa?” You asked, and a few seconds later, you heard her shout out a yes. You let out a small laugh, knowing this wasn’t the best thing to say, but it was the thought that counts, right? “This won’t make you feel better, but…I’m here to rescue you.”

“Oh, God.” She sobbed out. “He’s out there. He’s gonna kill us!”

“No, he won’t!” You tried to get the woman to calm down, you won’t let yourself stoop toward that thought, just yet. There was still time. Someone had to figure out where the both of you went. “We’re getting out. My friends are looking for us. They’ll find us.”

You might not have heard the faint footsteps in the water, but Teresa seemed to have a better view of what was going on. The next thing she shouted made you want to crawl out of your skin. “Oh, God, it’s him!” Sure, you had faced all dangers alike, but being kidnapped by an infamous serial killer and waiting to see what kind of ungodly torture he had planned you and the other woman was a new one, even for you.

“Shh! Just be quiet!” You hissed at her, trying to get get her to calm down. You could hear her muffled sobs, but after a few seconds, everything in the room fell toward an eerie silence that didn’t leave a good feeling in the pit of our stomach.

You kept yourself looking around to see where Holmes could pop up and try to make a move. But everything from what you could see was quiet, nothing out the ordinary. You had gotten toward your steady, shaky breaths from nothing that was happening–but the sudden sensation of someone roughly yanking at the roots of your hair caught you off guard.

You began to scream in agonizing pain when you forced your eyes open to see what was going on. You fingers wrapped around the wrist that had managed to squeeze its way through the crack, hoping that you would have managed to get the spirit away from you, but he pulled until you felt a sizeable amount of hairs yanked out from your head.

“Goddamn it!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, eyes widening when you saw that Homes had gotten what he wanted—a lock of your pretty, long Y/H/C hair, and he dangled it in front of your face like an award.

You quickly shuffled around so you were far away from the door, pressing your back against the cold stone wall. You shut your eyelids, squeezing them together hard as you could, making yourself believe that the brothers had found a lead and were looking for you. But as time went on, you could feel yourself beginning to grow scared for the silence as a taunting reminder that nothing was changing around you.

\+ + +

Patience was never a virtue for you. As the time slowly began to slip by, so did your thoughts of how this was going to end. You found yourself growing more with anger, trying to find a way out of this small space, even if it meant getting yourself into danger with this spirit. He got what he wanted when it came toward your hair. You just wanted to get the hell out of here. Pounding your foot against the metal door, you kicked as hard as you could, ignoring the throbbing pain that began to ache in your ankle and shins. But you didn’t care. If nobody was going to come to your rescue, there was no way in hell you were going to let you or the other woman die in the hands of this twisted soul that was living well past his expiration date. 

You kicked and kicked until you heard the sound of a faint, hopeful sound of something that you had made yourself believe was metal squeaking. You made yourself do one more, harder kick—and a squeeeeek later, you felt a small, victorious smile began to spread across your lips. Holmes might have been one smart man to create all those death traps, but he was lousy as keeping up the maintenance of his holding traps. But when you heard footsteps beginning to come toward the both of you again. You quickly laid yourself back down, trying to keep your breathing back to normal, expecting for him come back and take something else of yours. A few moments of silence passed, and nothing happened like you expected.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shifted around so you could take a peek out to see what was going on. Your eyes glanced around the room again, almost making yourself think that the noises were all in your head. “Is he gone?” You questioned the woman that was across the other room, who had seemed to have a better view of everything than you.

“I don’t know. I—” But before she could finding her sentence, the sound of her muffled screams rang through your ears. You quickly made your body shift into an awkward angle to see what was going on out there. A dirty, clothed looking man had his back turned toward you, and it didn’t take much thought to make you realize it was Holmes, and he was hurting Teresa.

Quickly, you lifted up your legs and kicked at the door until you heard the victorious sounds of the metal squeaking off the hinges, giving you just enough of a crack to slip yourself through. You made yourself stand on your feet after rolling out, even as painful as it felt, you weren’t going to let an innocent woman die. If you could distract this thing for a few moments longer, maybe you could really think of an escape plan. You got this far on your own, after all.

“Hey!” You shouted, watching a few seconds later, his head peered over his shoulder, obviously not liking what you had said to him. You felt a smirk spread across your lips, knowing you had got him where you wanted him. “Come and get me you ugly son of a bitch!”

You opened your mouth to taunt him some more, but before you could even squeeze out another word, you felt the sudden coldness of the door that once held you prisoner, was now pressed against your backside. In a blink of an eye, the spirit had moved away from the woman you were trying to protect, but the plan that you once set backfired right in your face. The sensation of someone pinching your nose shut and pressing their palm of a hand against your mouth made you quickly realize Holmes was hovering over you, and he wasn’t exactly happy at what you were trying to do.

With what breath you had left in your body; you tried your hardest to scream or find a way to beat the grip that he had on your body, but it was of no use. As he just pressed harder, you felt your lungs begin to feel like it was on fire, wanting desperately to take a large whiff of the sewer air. You could feel your attempts at fighting back beginning to grow less and less when you felt everything beginning to become hazy, knowing you would slip into consciousness again before dying. But before anything else could happen, a very familiar voice echoed through, sending a wave of relief to wash over you.

“Hey!” 

You felt your body roughly fall toward the cold ground when the spirit had taken sight of his unwanted guest, but a few seconds later, the familiar sounds of a shotgun going off rang through your ears. Holmes vanished from sight, showing no signs of coming back for a while. You heard metal hinges squeaking and three familiar bodies heading inside, you glanced up to see Sam was heading toward Tereasa while Jo and Dean dropped down to your level. You coughed as you pressed your hand to your chest, trying to get back the air that was ripped from your lungs.

“Oh, my God. Are you okay?” Jo couldn’t help herself but ask, taking in your disheveled appearance. You gave her nothing but an annoyed glare, not exactly happy to see that she had tagged along, putting herself in more danger than she already had been in.

“Peachy keen.” You muttered underneath your breath, hissing slightly when you forced yourself to get back up in a standing position with the help of the other brother. You looked at Jo, a half smirk spreading across your lips, knowing she didn’t expect this outcome. “Still want to be a hunter?”

“It’s just your luck, Y/N. You always manage to get yourself into trouble.” Sam commented. You glanced over at the other Winchester, who was now holding a terrified Teresa in his arms. Beside the abrasions on her forehead and dried blood, she seemed all right.

“Well, Sammy, I learned from the best.” You remarked, giving him a smile. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but this place is giving me the creeps. Mind if we get out of here before he comes back and kills us all?”

“Actually, I don’t think you’re leaving just yet.” Dean said, not wanting to be the one to bring up the plan that the other three had come up with, you gave him a look, questioning him why. “Remember when I said leaving you alone was a bad plan? Well, now it’s kind of the only one we got.”

\+ + +

It was like leading a lamb toward the slaughter. You sat on the concrete ground with your legs crossed over, eyes staring at the metal coffin that held Holmes’ decomposed body. You kept yourself quiet and inconspicuous, hoping if you dangled yourself like a piece of meat, the spirit would only be so interested in coming back, knowing you hadn’t gone away like he wanted. You kept yourself almost still, trying your hardest not to glance over at the other three that were hidden away, staying at a safe enough distance, just in case anything were to go wrong. You shifted around nervously, wondering when this homicidal freak was going to return.

The silence was making you start to go insane, your fingers twitched nervously in your lap, you started to think that he wasn’t going to show up. But over your breathing and pounding heart, you heard footsteps, ever so slowly, beginning to come up from behind you. You pressed your nails into your palm, keeping yourself from jumping at the spot and running for your life. Just a few more seconds…

“Now!”

Gunshots rang inside your ears again, making you flinch and jump down for just a split second before you were off, running straight for the entrance where you saw the brothers and Jo waiting for you. Two arms grabbed a hold of you when you were in reach and shoved you inside, away from anymore harm’s way. When you caught your breath, you peered out to see that ring of salt had worked, Holmes’ spirit was trapped, and his screams of anger could be heard through the space. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad plan, after all.

“Scream all you want!” Jo called out, taunting the spirit, a grin spreading across her lips at the outcome of the successful plan “There’s no way you’re stepping over that salt!”

He kept yelling at the top of his lungs, becoming aggravated at what all of you had done to him. But you reached out a hand and pulled on a lever, watching as a thick metal wall began to drop down, the spirit becoming nothing more than just another monster you could rest knowing that he was finally out of harm’s way, not spit to hurt anyone else ever again.

\+ + +

You stared down the underground tunnel that had been the key toward getting all of you back toward safety; your arms were crossed over your chest as you took a step back again, not wanting to give yourself anything else to stress about. All you wanted to do was wrap up the loose ends of this hunt and hit the sack. You ran your fingers partly through the spot that the psycho had grabbed ahold of, happy to know that he didn’t take enough to make awkward patches. You looked over toward your left to see Jo was standing beside you while Sam wandered around the hole again, Dean was somewhere, not sure where he had headed off towards.

“So,” Sam struck up a conversation, walking until he was standing next to you, looking over at the other woman. “is this job as glamorous as you thought it would be?”

“Well, except for all the pee-your-pants-terror, yeah.” Jo admitted, you felt a small smile spread across your lips at her reason why for sticking to the job. “But that Theresa girl’s gonna live ‘because of us. It’s worth it, isn’t it?”

You and Sam caught yourself staring at one another for a few moments when both of you thought about the question. Sure you had landed yourselves in dangerous situations and almost died, but someone else could live another normal day because of the effort the four of you put in. “Yeah.” Sam mumbled, nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah, it is.”

“Hey,” You broke the conversation toward the topic that you had been thinking about in the back of your head. Your eyes lingered down toward the hole. “What if someone finds that sewer down there or a storm washes the salt away?”

“Both very fine points,” Sam said, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when he continued talking. ”which is why we’re waiting here.”

“For what?” You were afraid to ask what their plan was, but it just slipped out. Suddenly your head turned toward the side when you heard the sound of a truck beeping, and sure enough, you saw a cement truck heading right up toward the three of you. Glancing back at Sam, you caught sight of his smile. “You kids think of everything, don’t you?”

You shook your head, but watched as the truck slowly continued to back up until Sam shouted something for his brother to stop, calculating the perfect distance to get this next part of the plan started. Dean jumped out of the truck when he killed the engine and Sam headed over toward the metal slide, pulling it apart with his good hand and his brother’s help, you watched as it drop down toward the open compartment.

“You ripped off a cement truck?” You asked with disbelief.

“I’ll give it back.” Dean said as it wasn’t a big deal. You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you didn’t even bother to try and see what was wrong about the situation. He walked over toward the back of the truck and pulled a lever, a few seconds later, a grayish mixture began to fall directly into the opening. “Well,” Dean said, heading over again toward the three of you to watch the progress unfold. “That ought to keep him down there till hell freezes over.” You rolled your eyes, knowing this could have been the weirdest way you’ve wrapped up a hunt.

\+ + +

You thought driving back to the Roadhouse was going to be calm, a chance to reflect of what had happened and another chance to catch some sleep that you’ve missed out on. Of course, you weren’t expecting to see Ellen Harvelle standing in the apartment when the four of you came back after filling up the hole, and the look on her face when she saw all of you was enough to even you begin to fear what the woman was going to say.

Come to find out, while you were gone, she had learned that her daughter wasn’t in Vegas, gambling her money away. Instead Jo was working the case with the three of you had took the first flight out to meet the rest of you. Awkwardness was the only emotion that was around all of you, from the moment you got yourself cleaned up and the others packed up the belongings, towards the long car back home.

You were stuck between Sam and Jo in the back seat, sharing glances every once in awhile when you saw Dean try to make a pitiful attempts at breaking the mother from her cold, stone glare at the dark roads ahead. But each time she turned to stare at him, he just shut down again and focused his attention back toward driving.

“Well, you—you really weren’t kidding about flying out here, were you?” Dean tried again, even forcing himself to flash a little smile, hoping that would be enough to make it known that he was sorry for lying. Ellen remained silent. You and Jo turned your heads to look at one another for a few moments,wondering if the woman was going to crack. Dean let out a long breath, trying to keep himself sane. Another thought crossed his mind, “How about we listen to some music?” As he leaned over to flick it off, you knew it was only going to last just a second when you heard the first lyric pop out.

“You’re as cold as ice—”

You had to pretend to rub your nose to keep the smile you felt growing from getting yourself into trouble. But you could feel two pairs of eyes on you, knowing themselves that it was amusing to see Dean squirm under pressure of a parent. “This is gonna be a long drive.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. And, boy, was it something.

\+ + +

When all of you arrived back to the bar, you knew that Ellen was nothing more than pissed off at all you from the lack of words she spoke to anyone that had the last name Winchester, only muttering one word commands for her daughter to follow. You stepped out of the back seat and watched as Ellen grabbed a hold of Jo’s arm and dragged her inside, not even giving her a chance to say anything to either one of you. But you and the brothers followed behind the family, riddled with guilt, only wanting to help straighten things out between all of you.

“Ellen,” Dean was the first one to step inside and try his hardest again to make the woman calm down. She turned around and threw daggers with her eyes, but this time, it didn’t scare off the older man. “It was my fault. Okay? I lied to you, and I’m sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud.”

“Don’t you dare say that—not you” Ellen finally snapped, her anger rushed toward the surface and began taking it out on the man that had been trying to apologize. You were a bit taken back by her attitude, knowing there was something else she wasn’t telling all of you. “I need a moment with my daughter, alone.”

You knew from the look she was still wearing that you weren’t going to try and push her buttons to see what else she’s got at the tip of her tongue. But when you turned around to head toward the door to leave them alone, you were caught off guard when you heard the mother call out your name, you looked over your shoulder to see that she was staring at you, her glare had softened just the slightest. “There’s something I need to discuss with the both of you.” She said, you weren’t sure what this was about, looking slightly toward the side again, seeing the brothers were just as confused as you were from the turn of events. “Please.”

“Um—Yeah, sure.” You manage to stutter out, forcing a small smile at the woman. You headed toward her and Jo, not sure what she needed to talk to you for. When you heard the door slam, Jo tried her hardest to get this conversation on the right foot, but her mother wasn’t going to have any of it. Suddenly you felt out of place, and the idea of leaving wasn’t the worst thing that crossed your mind.

“You’re angry. I understand.”

“Angry doesn’t begin to touch it!” Ellen yelled, beginning to walk away from her daughter.

“Let’s just think about this.” Jo said, placing her bag on the bar top and following behind her mother. “Everything’s okay. I’m alive.” But when you heard your name being said, you flashed her a dirty glare, not wanting to be dragged into this mess. “Y/N’s alive—”

“Not after I’m through with you!” Ellen cut off her daughter, not wanting to hear another word. You and Jo quickly glanced at one another, before you looked at the woman.

“Is this about Jo hunting or something else?” You got up the courage and questioned the woman, standing next to Jo, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Why am I here, anyway? This seems more like a family affair.”

“You let those boys use you as bait.” Ellen was now staring at you, acting as if you were her own daughter, you gave her a glare from the tone she was using on you.

“They were right there backing her up the whole time.” Jo argued, trying to defend you.

“That is why you do not have the sense to do this job.” Her mother was quick to continue on with her point, throwing her head toward the other side of the room. “You’re trusting your life to them.”

“What are you talking about?” You questioned to the older woman. “Why do you suddenly care about what I’m doing with my life? I understand you’re angry at Jo, but don’t you dare drag me into this mess!”

“Have you ever considered to think what your mother would say about all of this? After all she’s done for you. And you throw it away for that family. Running around with those boys, putting yourself in constant danger—using you. Like father, like son.” Suddenly you saw her beginning to change from angry to vulnerable, her voice cracked slightly. “That is what I’m talking about…” Was all she could manage to say before she pressed a palm toward her lips, keeping herself from saying anything more.

You bit the inside your cheek, beginning to realize there was something more she wasn’t telling you or her daughter. You opened your mouth slightly, speaking a name you haven’t said in weeks. “John?” You asked. “I thought you and John were friends.”

Ellen was quiet for a few moments, trying to compose herself before she could answer your question that was beginning to make you grow impatient for more information to what the hell was going on. “Yeah, we were.“ Ellen mumbled, looking back at the both of you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Mom,” Jo caught off the other woman. “What aren’t you telling us?”

And right after that, the truth came right out. You didn’t want to believe the information Ellen was feeding you and her daughter, it wasn’t like the man that you had knew. He wasn’t that careless to let a fatal mistake like that happen. But the look on her face, the anger and sadness that was written across her expression, it was too pure to have anyone else fake. And you saw from her words and how she spoke about your other, they were really a lot alike, she was just trying to warn you for the chance of something like this could happen. But she was a bit too late. John already got you almost killed and dragged you far too long into this mess to get yourself out, but it seemed that Jo’s father wasn’t as lucky as you were.

When the information had settled inside the younger woman’s brain, you watched as she stormed out of the bar, you weren’t sure if you should go after her or just let her be. But your legs weren’t moving, your mouth wasn’t opening to shout her name. It was like you had just froze.

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head toward Ellen, you caught side of her guilty stare she kept giving you, as if it was going to make everything she said okay. “But your mother would have wanted you to know. Just keep yourself safe, sweetie.”

You mumbled out something you thought was a thank you before turning around and heading outside. You were autopilot; your only thoughts were to get inside the car and remain quiet. You ignored Sam’s calls of your name or the questions that he kept throwing at you, wondering what had been said to make you and Jo begin to act this way.

All you could do was slip yourself inside the car and focus on anything that was a Winchester. Because if you did, you knew that you might find yourself beginning to question what you were still doing here. You made yourself promise to rethink everything. It was just one person and their opinion, after all, these boys were your family. They would never let anything happen to you…Right?


	7. The Usual Suspects.

You’ve been sitting in this interrogation room for almost an hour now; a yellow legal pad and black pen sat just inches from the edge of the metal table that you had been sitting at, your butt was beginning to go numb from the lack of movement. Your fingertips slowly lifted itself off the table and reached up toward the right side of your forehead, slowly you inched toward the white gauze bandage, and you winced from the accidental pressure you put on the wound, but that’s the least of the wounds. Your bottom lip stills feel swallowed and from the reflection in the table, your cheek has a nasty bruise. The sad thing about all of this—You have no memory of getting these wounds, nothing over the last few hours. No matter how hard you tried.

Your eyes jumped down toward the paper that should have been filled with lies, but it remained blank, like how it was when the officer brought it in for you, he gave you a warm smile and was pretty polite. He told you to try your hardest to write down any information that could have been useful toward what you remembered from tonight, and that was it. You couldn’t bring yourself to question what he was hinting at, in fear that it was something bad, and you were in the police station for some crime you were caught for because of the brothers. Sam and Dean! You wanted to smack yourself against the forehead when you almost forgot about those two men, they were probably worried sick about you.

You pushed yourself out from the table and got up, but you had to steady yourself, placing a hand on the table to keep yourself from falling when the room began to spin around you from moving quicker than your body would have liked. After making yourself take a few deep breaths to steady yourself, it was becoming quite clear you had a few blanks you needed to fill in. When you felt up toward it, you slowly headed to the closed door and slowly opened it to see what you had remembered from before. A long, narrow hall with handful other doors that were closed, you heard phones ringing off the hook and muffled voices coming all the way down.

Peeking your head around the corner, you were happy to take note that almost everyone was busy doing something; either they were chatting away, interviewing someone that was broken down to tears, or taking a much needed coffee break from their hard work. You took your chance and snuck out of the small room that you’ve been stuck in for what felt like an eternity now, you thought if you hunted down that police officer or that detective you remembered riding with during your way here from Karen’s house, maybe of them could tell you what was going on, even if she was okay from all the commotion that you had remembered a bit of.

You wandered down the halls, almost beginning to think that you were getting lost, but when you saw a door that was cracked just the slightest, you took your chance and peeked around. A sense of relief washed over you when you saw one of the detectives that had responded to the scene, it was the woman’s partner. He was getting himself up from the chair, wrapping up the conversation with whoever it was, you didn’t seem to catch it when you pushed open the door and stood in your spot in the hall. When you and the detective made eye contact, you forced a small smile.

“Hi, I’m sorry if I…” You turned your head to acknowledge you thought was one of his coworkers,but your face ended up scrunching up in confusion, suddenly everything wasn’t making sense anymore. You noticed that he was sitting at the table, and by the way his hands were resting on it, he wasn’t going anywhere because he was cuffed toward it. Your mouth fell open slightly, you looked back over at the detective, finally having enough of the questions that began to be the only thought in your head. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

\+ + +

Of course, nobody did.

You were escorted back towards the interrogation room you were assigned toward, and with a slam of the door, you were alone again. You huffed out a frustrated breath and crossed your arms over your chest, as if you weren’t angry about the fact you had no idea what you were doing here, Dean was somehow mixed into this mess and nobody was telling you why. You walked toward the window and looked down from the third story view, you watched people came and went from the building.

As you began to get yourself lost in thought, you nearly jumped out of your skin when the perfect silence was broken from the sound of the door opening again. Looking over your shoulder, you made eye contact with the female detective that you had clearly remembered now. Detective Ballard, that’s what she introduced herself as.

“Retrograde amnesia.” Was the first thing out of her mouth to you. She took a step forward and set down a hot cup of coffee, you took notice of a few case file in her hands, you glanced back up to see that a warm smile stretched across her face. So, you were guessing she was the good cop. You opened your mouth to ask what she was talking about, but she seemed to have known what you were thinking. “It’s a type of a short term memory loss from a person has suffered from a head trauma, stops the brain from storing any new information. Some can’t recollect memories for a full day, others just a few hours before the attack. It’s quite common to see this in people who have suffered from severe concussions before.” 

You repeat the word in your head, attack. Suddenly you can feel the color in your face when you slowly start to piece together what you thought was going on here. But you keep trying your hardest to act as if everything is normal, maybe you were wrong about your suspicions. “Okay, so, I hit my head or something. Doesn’t explain why you have my friend chained up like some criminal.”

“That’s because he’s being held on suspicion of murder…and assault.” Ballard says, you can feel her eyes slowly drift up toward your extensive wounds. You clench your jaw at her accusation she’s throwing around. “My guys are tracking the other brother as we speak and bringing him in for questioning. We’ll see what the other one is hiding.”

“Murder?” You couldn’t help yourself but repeat the word, finding the information she was feeding you as some big joke. “Who is he supposed to have murdered? And how is Sam involved in this? Jesus, you people are giving me a headache with these twenty questions.” You grumbled underneath your breath, pressing a hand toward your forehead when you felt an unwanted ache begin to kick on. “Could you please tell me something before I feel myself go insane?”

“Why don’t you take a seat, we have a lot to discuss.” The detectives gestures toward the table again. You do what she asks, settling yourself back down in the seat you were originally occupying, pushing away the pad and paper so it’s now off toward the side. She drops the case files toward the table and takes the chair that is right across from yours. She fold her hands together and gives you a serious look, what she says next is something you weren’t expecting. You didn’t know if you would be inappropriate to laugh at her accusation. “I want you to know that you can tell me what happened. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

You couldn’t help yourself but feel a small smile beginning to tug at the end of your lips, knowing exactly ashy she was hinting at. You bite your cheek to keep yourself from laughing. “You think Dean did this? Please. I would be the one in here for murder.” You scoffed out. “Besides, he’s my best friend, for crying out loud. He’s not exactly the type of guy to go a few rounds when he’s angry on someone. Or murder someone he doesn’t even know.”

“Oh, really?” Ballard quickly decides to switch to being the bad cop, because what she does next made your mood quickly makes you realize this wasn’t a joke anymore. She reaches over for one of the case files and opens it. Slowly she pulls out crime scene photos of two familiar face. You swallow in discomfort when you recognize them as Becky Weller, the other you were suspecting was her brother’s deceased girlfriend, Emily. “It seems that your friend hasn’t done this murder and torture thing before. But there’s just one small detail that leaves us baffled.”

Your attention slowly shifted toward the next photo she dug out, the one of the dead shape shifter that was still out as Dean. You glanced back up at her, not exactly sure what she was wanted to say. “St. Louis police told us Dean Winchester was pronounced dead from a fatal gunshot wound to the heart, gave him a proper burial and everything. But…you and I know that something is wrong with that picture. Care to explain how we catch him standing over Karen Gile’s’ lifeless body after her throat was slit clean?”

“I don’t remember—”

“Think. You have to know something about tonight.” Ballard said, as if you were just acting. “We want to help you, Y/N. But you need to cooperate first.”

“I told you, I don’t know!” You yell at the top of your lungs, slamming your hands against the table. “You’re the one who told me I have this amnesia crap, I can’t even remember going to Karen’s house, or what happened today. I swear on my life.” You admit, dropping yourself back in your seat. “Everything is just a blur. But I swear on my life, Dean didn’t kill anyone. He doesn’t have it in him.” That part was a lie, but you make yourself believe it.

“The evidence tell us otherwise.” Ballard says. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, the stress of everything was beginning to make you want to cry. But your attention is drawn toward the detective again, she speaks up in a softer tone. “Why don’t you tell us what you can remember the past few days. Maybe it will jog your memory.”

You let out a sigh, you had nothing else to lose. And you had a feeling nobody we going anywhere soon. “Anthony Giles with an old family friend of Josh’s. Him and his father, Rick, worked in the service together. I met him a few times when Josh’s parents died. From what I can remember, seemed like a pretty nice guy, wanted to make sure that Josh and his grandparents were settled with the new adjustment. He really was tough on Josh, guess it was the marine him.

When I called Josh, that’s when he told me the unfortunate news. So, I decided to head down here, see how he was handling it. All of us have lost a lot of loved ones. But it never gets easier, you know? The pain never stops hurting, and sometimes, I feel like it grows on some days until that’s the only thought you can form.”

\+ + +

Forty-Eight Hours Ago: 

You leaned yourself against the tiled wall of some bathroom stop, your fingertip twisting around a loose string at the end of your top, hearing the obnoxious sounds of the ringing phone. You didn’t know why you were doing this, after all those months of ignoring him, leaving him out to dry for all those months after the car accident. It wouldn’t be surprising if he blocked your number and cursed you out from his life, you were nothing but bad karma to him. But part of you had prayed he would pick up in that cheery, lovable voice you had grown toward terribly missing, making you homesick for normality.

Ever since the talk with Ellen, you had been out of sorts, constantly wondering if what she had said was really true. It made you evaluate every single case you’ve worked with, all those times you’ve gotten hurt, was either your fault…or because of the brothers’ careless attempts at getting a case solved. All you wanted to do was crawl into your own bed and forget about the hunting business for a while. You had a home, some other friends you had from the life you left. No matter how much convincing you wasted, you were beginning to miss it.

“Hello?”

You were quickly ripped from your attention on the graffiti walls when you heard his voice, you immediately pushed yourself off the wall and tried to find your voice. “J-Josh? Hi, uh, it’s me…Y/N.” You mumbled, closing your eyes, waiting for the dial tone to perk up in your ears when you said your name out loud. But Josh, being the man that he was, suddenly sounded like he won the lotto.

“Oh my, God. Y/N!” Josh shouted your name in cheery voice. “I haven’t heard from you in so many months since, you know, what went down. How are you? Is everyone okay?”

You couldn’t help yourself but smile, nodding your head as if he were here. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry—I didn’t mean to call out of the blue. I just wanted to let you know I’m okay. I feel like whenever we get together, something bad always happens. So, why not a phone call?” You force out a chuckle, suddenly feeling like an idiot for what you had said. You pull on the string at the bottom of your shirt, feeling it dig into your skin for a moment, before you hear it snap. “I hope you’re doing okay. Everything good at home?”

“Grandparents are still going strong, hearing is crap. I think I’m losing it every-time they call me.” Josh jokes, letting out a quiet laugh, but you can hear his voice slowly turning into a serious one. “But I’m in Maryland right now for a funeral on their behalf. Traveling isn’t good for them so I promised them I would say hello to a fee relatives then head back.”

“What?” You suddenly ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the turn of events. Well? You weren’t expecting to hear this kind of news from him. “Who passed away.”

“One of my dad’s old Marine buddies, he was murdered a few days ago.” Josh explained, you mumbled out a sorry. “My old man would have wanted me to pay him my respects, check up on his wife to see how she was doing. Still, the entire situation just frustrates me.” The line goes quiet for a few moments, before he speaks up again, you didn’t expect the conversation to go like this. “Hey, how are cases with you and those brothers?”

“We wrapped up a case about a week ago. But so far nothing has really caught our attention.” You admit, not sure what he was hinting at. “Why do you ask?”

“This entire case, it’s been bothering me. And I’ve been wondering, if it wasn’t too much work—”

“Are you asking for my help?” You couldn’t help but just ask the question that he had been hinting around for too long. You heard a muffled yes on the other end. “Of course, Josh. It’s the least that I could do after what happened between all of us. Think of it as my way of saying sorry for dragging you onto this terrible mess.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N.” Josh praised, his tone becoming more cheerful again. “Look, I gotta get going, but before I hang up, you can find the information about the case in the papers. An old friend of mine was pretty intrigued by the case and wrote an article about it. You know, it could be nothing.“

“Or, it could be something.” You pointed out. “I’ll take a peek around, see what happened and pitch the idea to the brothers. If they like it, which I’m sure they will, we’ll be more than happy to get to the bottom of this mess. I owe you that.”

“Thanks, again.” Josh said. “I don’t know what I do without you.” 

\+ + +

You and the brothers were spending the morning relaxing in a small cafe, sitting outside to enjoy the unusually warm temperatures for this time of day. You patiently waited for Sam to come back with your drinks, but your attention was kept on the other brother, who had been sitting in silence for a few minutes with a pen in his mouth, reading the article that Josh had told you about. But you left that part out, knowing if you even mentioned the other man’s possible involvement, the brothers would shoot down the idea, no matter how appealing it was.

“Here you go.” Your attention was torn away from the newspaper about a local charity to see a paper cup sitting in front of you and Sam taking his seat again, right across from his brother, leaving you in the middle. You politely smiled and grabbed the cup, making sure to blow on the hot liquid before daring yourself to take a taste sip. Of course, you flinched when the substance touched your upper lip, yet you watched as Sam sipped away, acting as it it was nothing.

“Anthony Giles.” Dean said the name that he had been reading up on, turning the newspaper around so his brother could read the article himself.

“Who’s Anthony Giles?” Sam asked, leaning down slightly so he could catch himself up.

“The Baltimore lawyer I was talking about.” You said. “Working late in his office. It seems like our kind of gig. Check it out.”

Sam grabs the newspaper and shakes it out slightly, he mumbled a few words underneath his breath before reading some information out loud, the evidence is what caught your eye. “His throat was slit but the room was clean. Huh.” He muttered. You could tell you were almost close to getting the other brother on board for the case. “No DNA, no prints.”

“Keep reading,” Dean said, “It gets better.”

“‘Security cameras failed to capture footage of the assailant.’”

“I thinking either somebody tampered with the tapes…” You trailed off, knowing exactly what Sam was going to say, you felt a small smile spread across your lips. He was hooked.

“Or it’s an invisible killer.”

Dean winked at his brother, putting up his hand that had been holding his cup and pretending to give him the shooting gesture, like the idiot he was. “My friend kind.”

“What do think, Scully?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask the youngest WInchester, making sure he was fully on board with the idea before going back Josh with the good news. “Should we check it out?”

“I’m not Scully.” Sam said throwing the paper toward your side of the table, obviously not liking who you choose from the famous show the both of you had grown to love from the times you and him had watched old episodes together. “You’re Scully.”

“No, I’m Mulder.” You said, placing a hand on your chest. “You’re a redheaded woman.”

\+ + +

After checking into a motel and getting yourself ready for the undercover job, whatever it was, Dean had told you to just dress in something formal, you took a few minutes to call Josh with the good news. Like always, he was over the moon, happy to know that all of you were going to look this over to find anything unusual.

You and the brothers soon were at the Giles residence, greeted by Karen, the late man’s wife, herself. She was a small red headed woman that was younger than you had expected, but it was no doubt she was broken up about her husband’s sudden departure. She ushered all of you into her home after explaining you were here to finalize some last minute documents for his insurance, all of you settled in the dining room to get this plan started.

You watched as she stared at the authentic document of some sort, before grabbing it up from the table to take a closer examination, her lips stretched into a slight frown at her faulty memory. “Insurance.” She mumbled underneath her breath. “I totally forgot about the insurance.”

“We’re very sorry to bother you right now,” Sam started off the conversation, Karen took off her glasses and wiped away a tear that threatened to fall. Obviously the grief that she felt wasn’t very kind to her, it never was. “But the company is required to conduct its own investigation. You understand?”

Karen nodded her head, “Sure.”

“Well, if you could just tell us anything you remember about the night your husband died.” Sam said, making that the cue to tell all of you the details that lead toward the gruesome act.

“Tony and I were supposed to have dinner.” Karen began to explain. “He called and said that he was having computer troubles and that he had to work late.” You and Sam nodded your head, hoping she had more to go on. But she didn’t. “That was it.”

“Do you have any idea who could’ve done this to him?” You asked the woman.

“No. No.” She said, shaking her head again as she sniffled a few times while speaking “It’s like I told the police. I—I have no idea.”

“Did Tony mention anything unusual to you in the days before his death?” Dean, being the king of bluntness, took his turn to question the woman. You turned your head to give him a glare when you saw Karen mumble the word usual, not sure what he was getting at. “Yeah,” He said, with a little bit too much enthusiasm, “like strange.” 

Karen’s face scrunched up, “Strange?”

“You know, Karen, weird.” Dean continued talking, you rubbed your forehead in frustration when his mouth kept running , but causing the woman nothing but confusion at his terrible. “Weird noises, visions, anything like that?”

Sam was obviously beginning to notice your sense of embarrassment from how his older brother was acting, and while Karen wasn’t looking, he tossed the man a glare, knowing it was a sign to knock it off. But when the woman glanced back over at him, his face dropped toward the sympathetic look; forehead scrunched up slightly, eyes glazed over with empathy. And when she glanced down at table to think, Sam immediately continued to glare at his brother.

“He had a nightmare before he died.” Karen said, shrugging it off as it was nothing.

“What kind of nightmare?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, beginning to wonder if there really was foul play in this murder.

“Uh, he said that he woke up in the middle of the night, and there was a woman standing at the foot of the bed.” Karen explained. You and the brothers glanced over at one another from the new information. “He blinked. She was gone. I mean, it was just a nightmare.”

Dean, who was becoming more repetitive and annoying, tried to pester the woman one more time with another question. His lips stretched into a small smile, “Did he say what she looked like?”

Karen didn’t answer just yet; she looked at the three of you, her eyebrows furrowing in anger, you could tell her patience was beginning to run thin from the useless questions. "What the hell difference does it make what she looked like?” She fired back.

“It’s just our company,” You jumped in when the room was beginning to grow quiet, you gave her a polite smile. “They’re very thorough. Again, I’m sorry if this brings up bad feelings. I promise, it’s not our intentions.”

“He said she was pale, and she had dark, red eyes.” She explained. You could tell from her facial expressions and tone of voice that she was going to explode from anger at any moment. So, you quickly rushed out a thank you for her time and rounded up the brothers, wasting no time and getting out before either one of you could say anything that would make her break.

\+ + +

“And after that, I think we left for the motel.” You mumbled the last detail, furrowing your eyebrows when you tried to remember a bit more about that day. But all you were getting was growing frustration and endless amounts of holes that you wanted nothing more than to fill the blanks in. “Look, I don’t know how I got to Karen’s house or what happened to me. But I swear to God, Sam and Dean had nothing to do with this. Why won’t you believe us?”

“Let me tell you something that might jog some more of your memory.” Ballard says, getting up from her seat until she was leaning over the table. We have an eyewitness, someone who saw two men and a woman fitting you and the brothers’ description breaking into Giles’ office.And here’s the interesting part,” She adds, “Just before you left, you and Dean had a few choice words, and it seemed that he was pretty angry at what you said to him. Hmm? Does that sound familiar?”

“What? Are you trying to say Dean decided to hunt me down and teach me a lesson? Jesus, him and I argue all the time, he does with everyone.” You admit, but the next part you say comes out as a perfect lie. And the scary part was, you didn’t even have to think about it at all, it just slipped out. “I think we went to Anthony’s office because she wanted a few things from there but the police weren’t letting her in for some odd reason. Josh was busy with a few things, so he dropped off the key after I promised him I would head over and grab a picture or something of the two of them in Paris. Just—Look, I know it was wrong of us to break into a crime scene, but I owed Josh that favor. He’s done a lot for us.”

When the door opened, you saw that it was a random police officer; he paid no attention to you but kept his gaze on Ballard. You immediately began to suspect the worse before he opened his mouth. And sure enough, it was."We tracked the other brother. Are you coming on this one?” He asks, his tone is deep and serious. You clench your jaw in fear, but you end up placing a hand against your jaw from the unexpected pain.

The detective looks at you for a few moments, a small smile beginning to spread across her lips at the turn of events. “Looks like we’re going to get some answers, after all.”

\+ + +

When all of you arrived back to the motel, you were glad you managed to snag a room that on the bottom, far enough away from the brothers so you could have your privacy, which was something you cherished during the research days. You kicked off your heels and dropped your bare feet toward the carpets floors, a sigh of happiness escaped your lips when you felt the ache in your legs beginning to gross less. You started to reach for the buttons of your blouse to take off the clothes you wore for undercover gigs. Barley having the third button undone, you were thrown out of your thoughts when your cell phone began ringing away.

You headed over toward your duffel bag that was still sitting on the edge of the bed; you shoved around a few things until you managed to recover your cell phone underneath a pair of dirty jeans. Answering it on the the third ring, your tone of voice ended being more rushed out and annoyed sounding than you thought it would be. “Hello?”

“Well, I’m guessing things with Karen didn’t go so great, huh?” On the other end was Josh, who you had promised to text back when you wrapped up the conversation with the grieving wife. It must have slipped your mind, because the only thing that you really had been thinking about was getting out of this skirt and heels. You mumbled out a yeah before dropping yourself to the bed, not exactly pleased with how the meeting yourself. “Did she at least give you guys information that seemed good enough?”

“Kind of,” You admit, “She told us that Anthony had a nightmare before he died. Might be something, could be nothing. We were planning on snooping around his office tonight when it got dark enough. See if we can find anything that can tell us what killed him.”

There was a long pause on the other end after you told him what the plan was, you were beginning to grow concerned, you said his name and a few seconds later a long sigh was heard on the other end. “Man, this is weird stuff. Is this really what you’ve been doing all these months?” Josh mumbled underneath his breath, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a laugh.

“Yup. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, there is so much I still need to tell you.” You said, but your attention slowly drifted toward the motel door when you heard someone knocking on the other side. You got yourself off the bed and headed over toward the window, you pushed the curtain aside a bit so you could take a peek out, you scanned the area to see who the person was. But to your dismay, you saw that it was Dean from the familiarity of the back of head.

You let out a sigh and walked toward the door, unlocking and pulling the door open, you decided to finish up your conversation before starting a new one. “I gotta go, Josh. I’ll talk to you later? Kay, bye.” Hitting the end button, you dropped your arm to your side and gave the man standing in front of you an annoyed look. “What?”

“Hello to you, too, princess.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, gesturing for you to move out of the way. You rolled your eyes and stepped next to the door, watching as he walked into your room, not sure what he needed you for. All of you had agreed to meet back in a few hours, but it seemed that he was missing you. “Nice fashion choice by the way, I’m digging it.” He said, giving you a playful wink as he pointed toward something with his index finger.

You look down at where he’s pointing, you weren’t sure what he was getting at, but when you see that your blouse—which you had been in the process of taking off before the interruptions, was buttoned down just enough to show off the unwanted parts of your body you wouldn’t like exposed. You quickly clutched the both sides of your shirt and kicked the door shut with your foot, heading over towards Dean and ripping a book out of his hands that’s he’d been examining and dropping it back into the duffel bag. “What do you want, anyway? I thought we were giving each other time before heading out.”

"Someone’s feeling a little bit feisty, today. You and your little friend Josh fighting?” Dean asked, watching as you began pulling out street clothes for you to lounge in. But when you heard the other man’s name slip into the conversation, you dropped your clothes to the bed. Turning your head slightly, you catch the unhappy look that begins to stretch across Dean’s face. “You should know, if you’re trying to keep secrets from me and Sammy, don’t talk so loud.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, pretending to play dumb. “I was only checking up on the poor guy, because if you don’t remember, we didn’t exactly leave him a nice compromise all that time ago. I was just being friendly.”

“Hmm.” Dean hummed to himself, nodding his head at your response. You had noticed he’s been acting different since the situation with Ellen, you had learned from his actions after the confrontation with Jo that he knew the unspoken bad blood between his father and the Harvelle family. He seemed more distant when you or Sam talked about working with the family again. Usually his response was a grunt or a weak nod, he didn’t seem too thrilled to show his face around the Roadhouse anytime soon. When you thought more about it, he really wasn’t friendly toward anyone that was out of the small circle of three this past week.

“What?” You ask again, wondering what he was going to say next.

“I don’t like the fact that you lied to me about this case, you should have told us this had Josh involved. Or the fact that you’ve been bitching your problems to him.” Dean stated, you rolled your eyes far back in your head. You knew exactly what was going to come out of his mouth next. “I just don’t like the kid. Whenever he’s around you, something bad happens.”

You let out a loud scoff, shaking your head at what he was admitting to you. Every word that he was saying was proving the point that he was a hypocrite. When you or Sam needed to get friends involved during cases that seemed supernatural, it was like pulling teeth. But when Dean had a rare friend that needed help, he wasted no time in roping everyone else involved into the mess. Before you could stop yourself, the thought you’d been storming slipped out from your mouth.

"Really? Because it seems to me you’re jealous about the fact that I’m not letting you call the shots. Josh needs our help. What’s the difference if Cassie called you again and begged for your help? He’s my friend, I’m just doing him a favor. If you don’t like it, sit this one out. ”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Stop acting like a child and I won’t have to.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

"I think I know enough to do this case without your help.”

“Don’t exactly go calling yourself a hunter just yet. You can’t just pick a case and push us out when we don’t do things your way. You have a lot more to learn before you start start calling the shots. You know well enough takes more than judgement.”

“Says the man who quits after an hour of research and makes the rest of us pick up the slack. You might be good at killing things, but your people skills really freaking suck. I think if you stopped acting like a little prick to everyone you meet, maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Oh, because you’re such a little saint!”

“It’s better than how you’ve been acting!”

During the heated discussion between you and Dean, that was slowly twisting itself into another argument that was just proving of who could yell the loudest, you were disrupted when someone else jumped into the conversation. You didn’t seem to notice Sam standing in the doorway, watching almost all of this unfold. “Hey, guys—”

“What?!” You and Dean hissed in unison, turning your heads around to glare at the younger man.

Sam composed himself, trying hard not to laugh or crack a smile at how the both of you were acting. “I was gonna suggestion we head out a bit earlier, make it a little bit less suspicious. But if you two wanna continue this little cat fight…I’ll just be upstairs.”

“I’ll be ready in five minutes.” You mumbled, twisting your body around and heading toward the clothes that were resting on the bed. When you heard grumbles coming from the oldest brother and footsteps going back toward the door, you looked over your shoulder to make eye contact with the youngest man. “And, Sam? Get that smart ass smirk off your face before I smack it off.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

\+ + +

Your back was turned from the door as you examined the empty hallway; the youngest brother was down toward a crouch as he picked the lock toward Anthony Giles’ office. Dean stood next to your side, making sure that nobody was coming down the other hall and bust all of you. It was a few moments later before you heard the familiar sounds of the lock clicking back and the office door swinging open. By the time that you and the brothers arrived, dark had already fallen, which made it a bit easier to dodge any lawyers that were staying late. You reached inside your jacket pocket and pulled out your flashlight for a guide when you stepped inside the office.

As you began to examine the place, mostly nothing important, that’s when you stumbled across the gruesome scene of the crime. Blood that was still soaked in the linoleum floors and spray from the wound could be seen on the cracks. “Hey.” You quietly called out, making sure your voice wasn’t raised too loud. “Anthony Giles body was found right about here.”

“Great hunting skills, Captain Obvious.” You heard Dean mutter underneath his breath. Reaching out an arm, you quickly smacked him as hard as you could against his shoulder for this rude behavior that still seemed to have lingered on for too long.

When he seemed to have rolled his eyes and moved on toward looking at another part of the office, you glanced down at the autopsy report you had found after looking through the police records. “‘Throat slit so deep,’” You muttered, flinching slightly the unpleasant image that crossed your mind, “‘part of his spinal cord was visible.”

Dean whistled at the detail, “What do you guys think? Vengeful spirit?”

“Underline ‘vengeful’ a few times.” You said, heading up toward the man’s desk.

“Maybe.” Sam agreed, walking over toward the other side of the desk so he could take a peek around the things that laid on top of it. “He did see that woman at the foot of his bed.”

You flipped through a few legal documents, not seeming to find anything interesting as Sam began to tackle case files that were lying around. But your attention was turned when you saw a piece of computer paper being waved around slightly in your face. "Look at this.” Dean said. You grabbed the paper and looked to see what it had read, but all of the words that were on the paper were just one word—danashulps.

“‘Dana Shulps.’” You read off, furrowing your eyebrows. “What’s that, a name?”

Dean had went over toward the other machine and grabbed the other pieces of paper to examine. “I don’t know, but it’s everywhere.” He said, turning the paper that he was around for you and Sam to see, who had flashed over his own light to see the similar paper. “'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’” Dean mumbled to himself, letting out a chuckle of amusement.

Sam, who had seemed to have found something in the glass desk, leaned over slightly and began to exhale over the surface until he saw something in the fog. A familiar set of words popped up for just a moment before they disappeared. You and Sam locked eyes and shared the same amused look at what he had just discovered. “Wow.” Sam chuckled out. “I’d say we’ve officially crossed over into weird.”

“Maybe Giles knew her.” You shrugged it off, thinking that could explain everything.

“Maybe it’s the name of our pale, red-eyed mystery girl.” Sam added on to your thought.

“Well,” Dean slammed down a load of case file toward the desk, you knew what was coming, so you grabbed half the pile and started digging. “Let’s see what we can see.”

You and the brothers tore through every inch of the office; you were on the floor examining a load of case files you had stacked around to see if there was anything you might have missed, Dean was checking some filing cabinet and Sam busied himself with checking local documents to see if you could find this mysterious woman. But there was nothing even related toward what you were finding. The slamming of a metal door brought your attention up toward Dean, who was frustrated by his own lack of findings and headed over toward Sam. You began scooping up the papers and stacking them into a neat pile, you got up from the floor and dropped them toward the desk in defeat.

“There’s not a single mention of a Dana Shulps anywhere.” Dean stated, leaning himself against of the sliding doors. “There’s not a D. Shulps or any other kind of friggin’ Shulps.”

"Great,” You muttered, rubbing your hands over your face in defeat. “Sam, please tell me you found something.”

“Nothing.” Sam declared, you let out a groan of annoyance. This wasn’t exactly the kind of news you wanted to hear. “No Dana Shulps has ever lived or died in Baltimore in the last fifty years at least.”

“So, what now?” Dean asked.

“I think I’m pretty close to cracking Giles’ password.” Sam said, returning his attention back toward the keyboard. “Maybe there’s something in his personal files.”

“By 'close’ you mean…”

“Thirty minutes maybe.” Sam shrugged off an answer.

Dean glanced down at his watch to see the time, he rolled his eyes. “Awesome.” He muttered underneath his breath, dropping his hand toward his side again and wandered toward the desk. “So, I guess we just get to, uh, hang out.” Dean said, dropping himself toward one of the chairs. “That’s awesome.”

For about the first thirty seconds it was mostly quietness; you got yourself lost in the sounds of typing as you fixated your attention on a personal picture of the couple. But you could feel your eyes slowly lingering back over towards the other brother, who was obviously growing bored from his actions. His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as he looked around the office. You couldn’t help yourself but stare at him, wondering if he was going to knock it off, but of course, he didn’t. Soon he collected air into his cheeks and let it out, an annoying sound soon echoed throughout the room. “Fffftt.”

“Dude, seriously!” You couldn’t help yourself but shout, giving him a glare. “You know what? I’m gonna head back to the motel, see if Josh knows anything about this mysterious woman and do some more digging of own before I kill this one.” You flashed your light on Dean, flashing him a sarcastic smile as you passed him by. “Keep up the good work, Sparky.” You called out to Sam, heading for the door.

As you opened up the door and headed out to the hall, your sights were set on the elevator that was just down a bit further. You walked in silence for most of the walk, you were beginning to get yourself lost in thought until you heard the sound of your cell phone ringing. You shoved your hand inside your pocket and looked down to see who was calling. When you recognized the name, you hit the send button and pressed it toward your ear.

“Hey! I was just about to call.” You answered, pressing your finger against the down button. You looked over your shoulder to see that the hall was empty, except for you.

“How is your breaking and entering going?” Josh joked, you heard the sound of muffled voices coming from the other end, but soon he shushed them before walking toward another part so there was silence. “Oh, sorry about the noise, I’m out with a few old Marine buddies of my dad and Tony’s. We’re planning a few special details for Tony’s funeral. But that’s not why I’m calling…I need another favor.”

“Josh Carver, I am not a girl you can just use whenever you want. At this rate, you’re going to owe me. At least buy me a meal.” You pretended to be hurt, but you let out a laugh to know you were just joking. “What’s up, kid? Anything you need me to do?”

“It’s about Karen. She hasn’t answered any of my calls. I’m about an hour out of town and won’t be back for another few hours. Could you swing by when you get the chance and see if she’s okay?” Josh asked, and you could tell from the tone of his voice, he sounded nervous. Of course, you agreed, thinking if you swung by her place, maybe you could ask her about this Dana woman. “Thank you so much, Y/N! I owe my life.”

“I know. And since you’re such a computer geek, could you look up a woman named Dana Shulps? Try a Maryland search, and if you can’t find anything, do a nationwide sweep. Oh, and ask around to see if that name rings a bell with your friends.” You said, stepping into the elevator. “And maybe you could buy me breakfast at this cute little restaurant I saw. It seems very expensive and a perfect place to enjoy a nice meal.”

Josh chuckled at your request, “Agreed. I think we both need some time to relax.” Suddenly you heard the sound of a male voice in the background calling out his name. “Shoot, I gotta go.” But suddenly his tone shifted into a serious one. “Make sure you keep yourself safe out there and call me when you get home. I hate to admit this before you leave, but,” There’s a small pause before he speaks up, “I just have this feeling sitting in my stomach, it’s like something bad is about to happen.”

\+ + +

You arrived at Karen’s house about twenty minutes later, you headed up from the porch steps and reached out a hand to knock on the front door. You rapped a few times on the wood and waited for her to answer, but a minute passed, so, you tried again. Growing a bit concerned from the lack of communication from the woman, you pressed your ear toward the door to see if you could hear anything. Mostly everything was quiet for a few moments, but something but it just a few seconds later, like a woman screaming on the top of her lungs.

Jumping back in fright, you didn’t waste anytime in reaching for the doorknob, which in surprise, was unlocked. You opened the front door and stepped inside the quiet home now, hearing only your breathing and footsteps on the floor as you made your way further into the home. As you continued to walk, you tried your hardest to find a lightswitch to see where you were going before you fell and hurt yourself. You felt one and tried to push it on, but to your dismay, it seemed that someone decided to have a little fun and shut off the power for the moment. You decided before you could go any further you needed to inform the brothers what was going on.

You barely had gotten out your phone and started up a new message before you felt your attention slowly go toward the office door that was cracked open just the slightest, you could hear the sounds of something like a printer going off. Furrowing your eyebrows, you headed over toward the room and pushed open the door, your eyes wandered around until you saw the printer was really coming to life. You walked and grabbed the warm piece of paper to see what it was, and when you read the first word, your stomach began to tighten in uneasy. Danashulps was written over in every sentence all the way down toward the bottom of the page.

But your attention was ripped away from the paper when you heard another scream pierced the air, you dropped what you were holding and bolted for the stairs. You ran as a fast as you could, trying to see where Karen was before it was too late. But when you stumbled across the master bedroom, you felt a breath you had been holding finally release at the horrible sight. Karen was in the room, but with her back pressed against the floor and her throat slit clean like her husband, you watched as she bled into the carpets.

You pressed a hand toward your head, feeling a pounding headache beginning to form when you realized the horrible news that awaited Josh. You shoved the other one into your back pocket and pulled out your phone to call the police first to get this mess under control before informing the brothers about the turn of events. As you punched in one of the numbers, you felt your eyes slowly linger up, you suddenly felt like someone was watching you. You glanced around the room one more time to see if someone was really there. But when it was empty, you looked over your shoulder slightly to see if you could figure this mystery out.

When your eyes landed on a woman standing right in front of you, you quickly turned around in fright and dropped your phone toward the ground to face her. You just stared at each other for what felt like forever; your eyes wandered away from her dirty clothes and disheveled hair, toward her throat, it was cut wide open. She tried to say something to you, but all that came out was a response. You opened your mouth to try and figure out what was going on, if she was the one that had been responsible for these killings, but what happened next made you realize she wasn’t the one responsible for this heinous crimes.

\+ + +

Present Day:

You stared down at the notepad that was in front of you; the name danashulps was written down in the first blank space as you tapped the pen against the paper. You’d been alone for awhile now, obviously the detectives were trying their hardest to see which brother would crack first to hear the news that they wanted to hear, but knowing them, they probably made up a story with the right detail all the way toward the t. You busied yourself with the quietness to make yourself think of what this name could be since it kept popping up everywhere. From what you could remember, you had found it at Giles’ office. You bit your bottom lip. "Maybe it’s not a name.” You mumbled to yourself, raising an eyebrow at the thought. “Anagram maybe?”

Writing down a list of different words that crossed your mind, you worked in quietness, but your attention was ripped away when you heard the door open. Expecting to see a cop or that detective again, you were taken back by the sight of Josh. He gave you a warm smile as he stepped into the interrogation room, obviously trying his hardest not to look at your bruises as he took a seat across from you. As he opened his mouth to say hello, you pushed the notepad toward him.

“Hey, do me a favor. See if you recognize any of these words,” You instructed, “Local names, places, anything like that.”

“What?” Josh asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. You gave him a glare, not exactly wanting to explain yourself. “Y/N, do you realize what’s going on? I don’t think playing word games isn’t exactly the right thing to do.”

“I can’t remember anything from the past day and half,” You mumbled. “humor me.”

Josh wasn’t exactly happy to waste time and figure out this puzzle you weren’t giving him clues toward, but he did it anyway. He grabbed the pen you were previously using and glanced down at the words. “Well, s-u-p?” He mumbled, crossing the first three letters out of the fourth word you had written down. “I don’t know about that, but,” He put parentheses around the remaining words. “Ashland is a street name. I remember it from visiting this place. It’s not far from here, actually.”

“Oh my God. You’re amazing.” You mumbled, grabbing the notepad and looking down at the word. When you looked up, you saw Josh staring at you. “Sorry, were you going to say something?”

“Y/N, they didn’t tell you?” Josh asked at you in a low tone. You shook your head, not sure what he was hinting at. “I heard a few officers talking on my way here. Dean is going to confess to Karen’s murder today.”

\+ + +

“What?” You nearly scream at the top of your lungs from the news that Josh had spoken. But you quickly cradle your jaw with your palm when a dull pain begins to set in, accidentally opening your jaw a bit wider than your body had wanted. “Ow.” You mumbled underneath your breath, hating how everything was happening so fast.

Sure, Dean had taken a murder rap before, but that was when all of you had a dead shape shifter that looked like him and someone was free from jail. But here it was the real deal; the jury had a love for a pretty bad boy, and with a past like Dean’s, he might be facing the death penalty with two murders and an assault underneath his belt. And God knew what else they found on him through the years of him hunting. You knew one thing was for sure, you needed to stop him before he threw away his life.

Before you could think clearly for a plan of action or even if Sam knew what was going on, you ripped off the piece of paper and jumped out of the chair. You could hear Josh calling out your name in protest, saying something about thinking this over and think of a proper plan of action. But he didn’t know Dean like you did, the man was committed to his job, and sometimes you wondered if he really would go to jail and waste his life away because of this. Stepping out into the hall, you noticed a line of men in suits heading for a room you’d remembered the number of. It seemed that word had traveled fast about this infamous confession that was about to take place. You had just hoped you weren’t too late.

You were the tiniest one in the sea of bodies that were mostly men; you push and elbow people out of the way so you are now standing right in front of the mirrored window to see the familiar man sitting at the table. A camera is set up and you watch as everyone gets themselves ready, you hear mumbles coming from the people surrounding you. But your attention once again goes back to the room when you see an older man step inside the room with a briefcase in his hands, and by the concerned look on his face, you were presuming that was Dean’s chump lawyer that was supposed to save the day. Out of an old habit you used to do as a child, you placed your hands behind your back and crossed your fingers for luck.

“Consular,” The male detective greeted the older man, his hands were placed on his hips as he watched Dean with a cautious eye. “Your boy decided to confess.”

“Mr. Winchester,” The lawyer stepped forward and tried to warn the younger man. “I highly suggest you don’t do this.” But it was too late.

“Talk directly into the camera.” Sheridan instructed, pointing toward the thing that he was standing directly across from. “Start by stating your name for the record.”

Dean cleared his throat and leaned over the table; he wrapped his fingers together and you bit your bottom lip. “My name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius.” Suddenly you could feel your lips beginning to stretch across your lips when he continued to explain himself like this was some sort of cheesy introduction video for a dating website. “I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. And I did not kill anyone, but I know who did,” Dean said, glancing up at the two detectives. “Or rather what did.” 

“God, you’re an idiot.” You couldn’t help yourself but mumble underneath your breath, crossing your arms over your chest. So, you were right. This wasn’t a confession, after all.

“Of course, it can’t be for sure because our investigation was interrupted.” Dean continued to explain. Honesty was always the best policy, but in this situation, you could feel the air in the room beginning to shift into disbelief, as if this was a joke. “But our working theory is that we’re looking for some kind of vengeful spirit.

Suddenly a silence fell on everyone; you could see the peculiar glances the officers were giving one another; some were trying to keep themselves from snickering. Wait for it…

"Excuse me?” Detective Ballard asked, looking at the man with an eyebrow raised.

“You know, Casper the bloodthirsty ghost.” Dean remarked, looking over at the woman. “Tony Giles saw it. I bet you cash money Karen did, too. See, the interesting thing is the word it leaves behind. For some reason, it’s trying to tell us something. But communicating across a veil ain’t easy. And sometimes the spirits, they get things jumbled. You remember ‘redrum.’ Same concept. You know, it could be word fragments. Other times,”

You watched as the man reached inside his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded it and put it directly in front of the camera, you leaned in a bit father. You felt your mouth open just the slightest, Dean had figured it out, too. “It’s anagrams. At first we thought this was a name—Dana Shulps. But now we think it’s a street—Ashland.” Dean explained. “Whatever is going on, I’m betting it started there.” A grin began to spread across his face as he looked the camera again, done with his side of the story. Before you could gawk at how he could have figured it out himself, your attention shifted toward the male detective, who had found all of this not so amusing.

“You arrogant bastard.” Sheridan hissed, obviously from his response and tone of voice, he had a strong connection with the deceased, and was nothing but offended by what Dean had said about them. “Tony and Karen were good people, and you’re making jokes.”

“I’m not joking, Ponch.” Dean said. you rolled your eyes.

Sheridan walked over toward the table, leaning over slightly to talk to the younger man. “You murdered them in cold blood just like that girl in St. Louis.” He yelled, knowing that the man was close to losing his temper, but Dean didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean turned toward the camera, you could feel your hand slowly beginning to cradle your head in anger. This man wouldn’t shut up. “That wasn’t me, either. That was a shapeshifter that only looked like me.”

Before anyone could stop it; you watched as Sheridan grabbed Dean by the shoulder and roughly yank him out of the chair and throw him against the wall, and you knew from that point, Dean was a dead man walking. You shoved the piece of paper into your pocket and slowly got yourself out of the room when everyone was distracted. You needed to get yourself out of here before it was too late. Maybe having Dean locked up for a while would do him some good, you thought to yourself. You knew that you had lots of research ahead of you, just like the old times.

\+ + +

You had arrived back at the motel by yourself, you shoved the key in the lock for the brothers’ room, making up some excuse that seemed to have conned the man working at the desk to give you a spare one. As you heard the deadbolt click back, you opened up the door and reached to turn on the lights, but you froze in your spot when your eyes landed on someone you haven’t seen in almost twelve hours. You let out a sigh and dropped your hand toward the side, closing the door behind you and stepped inside the room. You weren’t expecting this.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be the bad brother, Sasquatch. Dean seems to have that role down quite nicely.“ You said, stepping deeper into the room and throwing the keys on to the dresser. As you shrugged off your jacket, you glanced over at Sam, who had suddenly been hovering over you. "Jesus, what?” You shout in fright, a hand quickly jumps toward your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat from his movements.

“You

can’t keep yourself out of trouble, can you?” Sam’s tone of voice is low as you see his good hand reaching up toward your face, his fingers softly wrapping around your chin and turning your head toward him so he could inspect your wounds. “Y/N, what the hell happened to you? It looks like you went five rounds with someone and lost.”

“I don’t know.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders. When you catch sight of a look that makes it seem you’re lying to him, it seems that nobody seemed to have inform him what really happened to you. “Seriously, I don’t remember anything from the past day. All I do know is that I woke up at Karen’s last night probably because I wanted to check up on her or something. Maybe she beat me up because I scared her or something. Look,” You yank Sam’s hand away and let it drop back toward his side. “We have more important things to do. If we don’t find some solid evidence to prove what killed Karen, I have a feeling Dean’s life is gonna be cut short, if you know what I mean.”

\+ + +

Both of you worked nonstop for the next few hours; you sat on one of the motel bed with your laptop opened. You had been multitasking between searching the history of the street Ashland and texting back Josh to inform him. Luckily, he’d been pretty useful, staying around the police station to see what information he could get on the progress with Dean and finding any crimes that could have happened on that street. Sam was sitting at the table with books spread around him and his own laptop open, you and him had been working in complete silence up until the night, that was when a knock came rapping at the motel door. You quickly ripped your gaze away from the computer, freezing with fear as you looked over at Sam, who was just as taken back by the noise. You had suddenly wondered who it could be at this hour.

Knowing that Sam could have been a wanted criminal himself, you got yourself off the bed and headed toward the front door. You took a deep breath, hoping that you weren’t about to look down the barrel of a gun after the swat team nearly ripped down the door for Sam. You swung it open and saw someone, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Detective Ballard?” You questioned, you weren’t expecting to see her. But from the look on her face, she wasn’t here for business.

You ushered her inside and called out for Sam, knowing that something had happened, you could tell from the fear in her eyes. Sam got himself up from the table and headed up toward the woman. She put out her wrists to show the both of you what had happened to her. Sam gently grabbed a hold of her hands and examined the ligature marks on her wrists, it looked like someone had tied her up. She claimed to have see a ghost, the same one that the Giles had saw before their death.

“These showed up after you saw it?” Sam asked, making sure she was correct.

“Yeah, I guess.” She mumbled, shaking her head as she dropped her hand toward her stomach.

“All right.” You said, looking at her. “You’re gonna have to tell us exactly what you saw.”

“You know, I must be losing my mind.” Ballard suddenly didn’t feel like cooperating now, changing her mood toward the officer side in her. She took a few step toward the door before looking at Sam, “You’re a fugitive. I should be arresting you.”

“Well, you know what?” Sam didn’t feel like playing along, it seemed that he wasn’t affected by her threats, because he had a few subtle ones of his own. “You can arrest me later after you live through this. But right now, you got to talk to us. Okay?” Ballard was quiet for a few moments, but finally she nodded her head in agreement. “Okay. Great.” Sam said, leaning himself down on the dresser. “Now, the spirit, what did it look like?”

“She was, um, really pale,” Ballard began to explain the spirit she had saw, “And her throat was cut. And her eyes, they were like this, deep dark red. It appeared like she was trying to talk to me, but she couldn’t.” You could see the woman beginning to grow sympathetic toward the thing, knowing as if it was trying to communicate, but failed. “It was just…a lot of blood.” She finished, slowly sitting herself down on the bed.

“You know what? Here.” You said, turning around and heading over toward the table where you’d recently had a stack of missing person’s reports printed out. “I’ve been searching for every girl who has ever died or gone missing from Ashland street.”

“How did you get those?” Ballard questioned you, obviously not happy from the evidence that you had managed to sneak from a little help of a friend. “Those are from crime scene and booking photos.”

“Well, I have a friend who had ex Marine father and a mother that was a personal investigator, he taught me a few things a while back.” You said, looking at Sam as a small smirk beginning to stretch across your lips. Josh might have taught you how to hack into the police records, no big deal. It’s not like he didn’t do it before for you. “You have your job. I have mine. Now, here.” You handed her the photographs. “I need you to look through these. Tell me if you recognize anyone.”

Ballard grabbed the photographs and took a seat at the edge of another bed, beginning to flip through the first two photographs, acting as if she wasn’t finding anyone that sparked a memory. But after she glanced down at the third photograph, her face fell into shock. “This is her.” She said, handing you the photograph. “I’m sure of it.”

You glanced at the photograph and grabbed the missing person’s report you had pulled up on the woman. “Claire Becker? Twenty-eight years old. Disappeared about eight or nine months ago.” You said, hoping this information could be ringing any bells for the detective.

“But I don’t even know her.” Ballard confessed. “Why would she come after me?” 

“Well, before her death, she was arrested twice for dealing heroin.” You read off the information, you glanced over at the woman. “You ever work narcotics?” 

“Yeah, Pete and I did before homicide.”

Sam pulled up the episode so the woman was staring at it again, “You ever bust her?”

“Not that I remember.” Ballard admitted, you bit your bottom lip as you glanced back down at the report again to see what you could find to explain what was going on or if there was any clues to point what had happened to the woman.

“Okay, it says she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland street.” You read off, frowning when you had learned about the outcome of the case. “Police searched the place, didn’t find anything.”

“Guess we got to check it out, see if we can find her body.” Sam suggested.

Sam got up from his chair as you walked over toward the bed to grab your coat, but you turned your attention toward the detective. “What?” She asked in a surprised tone. You and Sam glanced over at one another, you dodged the bullet at trying to explain the situation as you busied yourself by slipping on your shoes and jacket, heading for the door.

“Well, we got to salt and burn her bones.” Sam started to explain, shrugging on his jacket. “It’s the only way to put her spirit to rest.”

“Of course it is.” Ballard mumbled, obviously, still in shock.

\+ + +

The three of you arrived at the abandoned building a short while later, and you could tell even from the lack of light, this place was a dump. Your flashlight had been a useful guide of light as you trailed behind from everyone, spending most of your attention trying to make sure you didn’t trip over a piece of garbage that littered the floor. “So, what exactly are we looking for?” Ballard asked, breaking the silence that had fallen since all of you had stepped inside.

“I’ll let you know when we find it.” Sam simply said, not giving the rest of you a clue.

You and Sam found yourselves splitting up; him taking the top stairs of the building as you wandered toward the back, wondering if there was anything that could lead toward a clue where this woman was buried. As you ventured deeper into the place, you had almost forgotten that you had left Ballard alone, but just as the thought crossed your mind, you immediately whipped your head toward the back of you when someone began shouting your name, along with Sam’s in fear. It took you a moment later to realize it was her.

Quickly as you could, you scurried back toward where you had left Ballard, Sam was nearly on your heels as the both of you arrived back toward the frantic woman. "What is it?“ You began questioning, nearly tripping when you found the woman again. "What happened?”

“Claire.” Ballard mumbled in a breathy tone. You looked over toward the spot where she had been staring at, you could see no one. “She was here.” 

“Did she attack you?” Sam asked, looking at the woman to see if she was okay.

“No.” She confessed. “No, she was just reaching out to me. She was over there by the window.”

You began following behind the woman as she walked over toward the wall that was just across the room, you and Sam began searching every inch of the place to find a clue to what was going on. “Here,” Ballard was now standing next to a shelf that was occupied by a mix of heavy objects. “Help me move this.” You took one side and Sam grabbed another edge, pushing it out of the way to see what laid behind it. From the streetlamp shining above ground, you could see the faint letters that were painted on the shop window. “Our little mystery word.” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you turned around to follow a hunch that began to set in your mind; and right across from the brick wall you saw the words ASHLAND SUP outlined. “Now the extra letters make sense.” You mumbled. If this spirit was trying to communicate with someone like Dean had said, she must have mixed up the wording causing all of you to get confused.

“What is that?” Ballard asked, noticing that Sam had taken out the EMF reader from his jacket.

“Spirits and certain remains give off electromagnetic frequencies.” Sam started to explain, walking around the place, going toward the places when the reader began to buzz louder. You could tell it was going straight toward the brickwall.

“So, if Claire’s body was here, that would indicate that?” 

“Yeah. Well,” You corrected yourself, “That’s the theory.”

Sam had walked a bit further, the reader was beginning to get louder, and when you noticed that the thing was beginning to grow crazy from the moment he pressed it against the brick wall. It seemed that Claire was in there, after all. You wandered around the place to look for something to break down the wall and take a look inside, when you found an iron pipe that seemed decent enough, you headed back toward Sam. You made sure to take a step back before he started whacking away, breaking down a decent size into the wall, just enough for him to take a peek in. He dropped the pipe toward the ground and took his flashlight, looking around a bit before glancing back at the both of you.

“Yeah,” Sam said, confirming what all of you had grown to know. “There’s definitely something in there.” You headed back over to take a peek inside, wanting to see it for yourself. “You know, this is bothering me.” 

“Well, you are digging up a corpse.” Ballard commented. 

“No, not that.” Sam mumbled, deciding to take his shoulder and start ramming more at the wall to make the hole bigger. “That’s, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.”

“Then what?” 

“It’s just,” Sam started, running himself into the wall again as he explained himself. “I mean, no vengeful spirit I’ve ever tussled with wanted to be wasted, so why the hell would Claire lead us to her remains? Doesn’t make any sense.” You weren’t sure what he was getting at, but you watched as the wall crumbled down just down to a decent size for all of you to see in side better. “Alright, Y/N. Here. Give me your hand.”

The both of you leaned down to grab the body that was wrapped in a black sheet, both ends were tied, keeping this body wrapped up. You let out a grunt of discomfort when you felt the weight shift toward you for a moment before Sam took most of it away, leading you toward the ground. You let out a sigh of relief when the body was now lying on the ground, waiting to be opened. Sam reached his pocket and pulled out his knife, he took the blade toward the rope, and with a quick snap, the bounds were broken. Taking in a breath, you watched as the sheet was ripped off to reveal a decomposed body that was nothing more than a skeleton. You noticed that her hands were bound and pressed toward her chest, Ballard stretched out her wrists and placed them near the body.

“Her wrists.” Sam said, noticing the pattern. “Yeah, they’re bruised just like yours.”

But that wasn’t the only thing the woman seemed to have noticed, you watched as she reached out a hand to grab the necklace Claire was still wearing. “That necklace mean something to you?” 

“I’ve seen it before.” Ballard said. You decided to take a closer inspection to see what made this so special. “It’s rare. It was custom-made over on Carson street.” You looked back at the woman, but your eyes dropped toward the exact same one that she was wearing. “I have one just like it. Pete gave it me.”

You got up from the ground, suddenly realizing what was going on. Of course, why didn’t you think of this sooner? “Now all of this is making perfect sense.” You mumbled underneath your breath, almost forgetting that Sam and Ballard were right next to you.

“I’m sorry?”

“You see, Claire isn’t a vengeful spirit. She’s a death omen.” You explained, and suddenly, it was a eureka moment going off in your brain. Slowly, you could feel yourself remembering small moments of that night, not a lot, but enough to piece together just the right amount of knowledge. But Ballard still didn’t seem to know what you were saying. “Claire’s not killing anyone. She’s trying to warn them.” That explained the printer going off in the office at the Giles house when you visited, or when you saw her right after you discovered Karen’s body. She was just trying to warn you for the doom that was about to happen.

“Sometimes spirits, they don’t want vengeance.” Sam tried to explain in further detail. “They want justice, which is why she led us here. She wanted us to know who her killer is.” 

There hadn’t been many suspects that could lead you to who could be the person that was doing all of this. But you had a slight hunch of who it could be. “Detective, how much do you know about your partner?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask Ballard.

The woman was quiet for a few moments, as if she was thinking for all the information that could have lead toward making your suspicions wrong. But what came out of her mouth next made you realize you were snooping in the right direction. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lockup. Obviously it was a cop.” Ballard began to explain, slowly walking toward the other side of the room. “We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product.”

“Somebody like a heroin dealer.“ Your eyes dropped toward the dead body, figuring out who was the mule to move the product. "Somebody like Claire.”

\+ + +

You sat in the backseat of the detective’s police car, riding back toward the station after what you had discovered in the shop, not quite expecting to find Claire’s dead body and dirt on Ballard’s partner to make it known he was a dirty cop. But at what length he was willing to cover himself was something that you still wondered. Ballard had gotten a phone call during the ride back, a simple few words were exchanged over a few minutes before she was focusing her attention back on the road, shoving her phone back into her jacket pocket. Her face was more serious than ever from the news that she had heard.

“What is it?” Sam couldn’t help himself but ask the question, the curiosity was getting to him.

“Pete just let the precinct with Dean.” Ballard explained, your face scrunched up when you saw the time of the clock was beginning to turn toward two in the morning, a little late for a drive. “He said the prisoner had to be transferred, and he just took him.” You and Sam shared the same looks of concern when she continued on, knowing that this wasn’t going to end well. “Dispatch has been calling, but he won’t answer the radio.”

"Radio? He took a county vehicle?” You asked, she nodded her head. Well, that was one bit of good information. “Then it should have a LoJack. You got to get it turned on.”

\+ + +

After talking to almost a handful of different police officers that didn’t seem to know what you were talking about, you finally managed to pin point exactly where the two men were before you could feel yourself losing your patience. The car pulled up to an abandoned looking part of the woods that was just off the highway, seeming like the type of place that would be perfect to hide a body. You could barely keep it together when the car stopped and all of you started forward, following the sound of distant voices in the background that were getting louder with each step that you took forward. And just a few seconds later, you saw them; Sheridan was hovering over Dean, who was handcuffed and down on his knees, with a gun pointed toward his head.

Ballard charged forward without a warning, she had her gun positioned out and aimed at her partner, “Pete! Put the gun down.” She warned, stepping forward more, leaving you and Sam to linger in the distance, better to have some leverage of space if things were to go wrong.

“Diana?” Sheridan glanced away from the oldest Winchester, looking at his partner with a confused expression. But his gun wasn’t lowering a single inch when another one was pointed toward his chest. “How’d you find me?”

“I know about Claire.” Ballard said, you could hear the anger in her voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to deny everything, but that only seemed to have pushed her buttons even more.

“Put the gun down!” She warned him again, this time, in a more authoritative voice.

“No, I don’t think so.” Sheridan said, his voice beginning to grow cocky as he glanced down at the man kneeled on the floor. His lips twitched into a smirk. “You’re fast. Pretty sure I’m faster.”

“Why are you doing this?” Ballard couldn’t stop herself but asking the question that had been burning in the back of her mind when the three of you discovered that dead body.

“I didn’t do anything, Diana.” He tried to deny it all, but none of you were falling for that lie.

“It’s a little late for that.” She mumbled.

“It wasn’t my fault. Claire was gonna turn me in.” Sheridan finally spoke the truth, admitting toward the three vicious killings, acting as if what he was completely okay. “I had no choice.”

“And Tony? Karen?”

“Same thing. Tony scrubbed the money. Then he got skittish. And then he wanted to come clean. I’m sure he told Karen everything.” Sheridan continued to explain himself, making it out to be like he was just cleaning up the mess that he made.

But during the monologue, Sam had been sneaking glances over at his brother, trying to see if there was a way he could put an end toward this disaster he started. Dean tried shaking his head just the slightest when the cop that still had a gun pointed out directly at his head wasn’t looking. “It was a mess. I had to clean it up.” Ballard wasn’t falling for his excuses, she just cocked her head toward the side. “I just panicked.”

"How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?” She questioned.

“There’s a way out.” Sheridan said, a smirk spreading across his lips when he glanced down at the man that was in front of you. “This Dean kid is a friggin’ gift. We can pin the whole thing on him. Okay? No trial, nothing. Just one more dead scumbag.”

“Hey!” Dean said, giving the man a dirty look from the comment.

But his hands went up into a surrounding position when the gun was lifted back up again, knowing that the other detective wasn’t joking around. “No one will question it. Diana,” Sheridan tried pleaded with his partner, “Please. I still love you.” You could feel your fingernails beginning to dig into the flesh of your palm when you watched as Ballard’s gun lowered, maybe it was too good to be true. Sheridan gave his lover a smile, the kind that seemed too sincere. “Thank you.” He mumbled, turning his attention back toward his target. “Thank you.”

Just as Sheridan locked his eyes and positioned his finger back on the trigger, Ballard took the opportunity and quickly whipped her gun back up, proving toward the man she was faster. A gunshot rang in the air, making everything happen so fast; one body fell toward the ground when another began rolling away, Sheridan was now on the ground, clutching his leg with a new bullet wound in it. Ballard headed up toward the man, her gun toward her side. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And her partner was in for some serious pain.

“Then why don’t you buy another necklace, you ass?” She hissed, standing over the man. But before either one of you knew what could happen next, he lunged forward, grabbing her by both of the ankles and tackling her toward the ground, sending the gun dropping toward the back of her. When you caught sight of it lying just a foot from where she was, you acted on the adrenaline that was pumping through your veins. Before you could make it a few steps, you stopped in your tracks when Sheridan was up from the ground, pointing the gun at you.

“Don’t do it. Don’t do it.” Sharidan warned, working quickly to get up on his feet and continue with his plan, even if it meant killing someone else in the process. You forced your hands up, admitting defeat.

He quickly turned around at Dean, who only managed to get away just a few feet before being caught. It seemed that neither one of you were his first target, your eyes wandered as the gun shifted toward Ballard, knowing that things had turned personal, and all of you had seen too much. Knowing him, he would throw around a few lies to make it seem like she was in on this plan. But before he could plan the future, his past had caught up with him.

The attention in the atmosphere shifted toward toward a stranger that was standing from behind the man; her throat was cut deep, the clothes she wore were a mess. But if this was your first time seeing a ghost, you would have said she was pale, had dark, red eyes. All though, she wasn’t here to warn any of you, she was here to see the revenge she had waited for finally be committed.

Sheridan finally turned around to see what the commotion was about when he wasn’t the center of attention anymore. When he was distracted by the familiar face, Ballard took her chance. She slowly inched for the gun and just a few seconds moments later, a gunshot wound toward the heart made the man’s dead body drop toward the cold ground.

\+ + +

Morning was beginning to rise when all the commotion from the previous events had been settled down; Ballard was crouched down toward the ground, her eyes examining the man she once called her partner and lover. Now he laid dead, all because of you three. After spending time reflecting on the events, you watched as she got up from the ground and started walking up toward the rest of you, knowing there still were details that needed to be cleared through.

“You doing all right?” Sam asked, breaking the long silence.

“Not really.” Ballard admitted, but her mind was on other things. “The death omen, Claire, what happens to her now?”

“It should be over.” You said, hoping that would give the woman a piece mind, at least someone else could settle well on the other side. “She should be at rest.”

“So, uh, what now, officer?” Dean didn’t exactly want to be the person to take the conversation away, but still, there was a dead officer just lying a few yards from you that wasn’t going to go anywhere unnoticed.

“Pete did confess to me.” Ballard pointed out, “He screwed up both your cases royally. There’s a good chance that we can get your cases dismissed.”

The three of you were taken back by that good news, it seems that this could be behind all of you, one less thing any of you would have to worry about. "You could take care of that for us?”

“I hope so. But the St. Louis murder charges? That’s another story. I-I can’t help you.” Ballard said, breaking the news about the past didn’t seem to go away, no matter how much all of you tried to shake it off. As she looked toward the ground for the slightest second, her eyes were up again on the brothers. “Unless I just happened to turn my back and you walked away. I could tell them that the suspects escaped.”

‘Wait. Are you sure?“ You couldn’t help yourself but clarify, knowing that was asking a lot.

"Yeah. She’s sure, Y/N.” Dean muttered, giving you a look to keep quiet.

You rolled your eyes and shushed him, “You could lose your job over something like that.”

“I just want you guys out there, doing what you do best. Trust me. I’ll sleep better at night. Now listen,” Ballard said, getting all of you back toward the plan she was hatching up to make this all go away. “You need to watch your back. They’re gonna be looking for the both of you right now.” You opened your mouth to see if there was anything else you could do, but she put up her hand to stop you. “Get out of here. I got to radio this in.”

Just as the four of you turned to head back toward town, there was just one more pressing matters that Dean seemed to have been worried about. “Hey, uh,” Dean forced out a weak smile, “You wouldn’t happen to know where my car is by chance?”

“It’s at the impound yard on Robertson.” Ballard said, but she narrowed her eyes at the older man, pointing her index finger at him. “Don’t even think about it.”

“It’s okay. It’s all right. Don’t worry.” Sam jumped in, smiling at the woman. “We’ll just improvise. We’re pretty good at that.”

“Yeah.” Ballard said, cracking a smile at him, “I’ve noticed.”

You gave her a small smile yourself but you began trailing behind the brothers, knowing all of you had a long walk back toward the motel. As you stepped on toward the dirt path, you found yourself in the middle of the brothers like always, heading down the road. “Nice lady.” You admitted, shoving your hands inside your pockets.

“Yeah, for a cop.” Dean muttered, you couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes. “Hey, did she look familiar to either one of you?”

“No. Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s nothing.” Dean admitted, shrugging off the suspicion. Suddenly you turned your head down slightly when you heard the sound of something rumbling at the mention of food, this had been a long few days. “Hey, you guys hungry? I could go for some pea soup.”

“Ew. How could you eat that stuff? It looks like vomit.” You admit, scrunching up your nose as you pull out your cell phone and punching in a familiar number before putting it toward your ear, as you began to hear it ring, you look at Dean. “But if that’s what you want, I know someone who can get that. With a little something added to the side.”

\+ + +

Everything is finally taken care of; you slipped the motel manager half a grand to keep him quiet, tapping into your personal funds so all of you could stay in Baltimore just one more day before hitting the road. You called up Josh during the walk back to town, hoping that he would work his charm and get the Impala out of police custody, of course, he did. Forging around a few documents, he made it look like the car was in just for a few speeding tickets that you paid off, and soon Baby was back on the road. with you in the driver’s seat, a couple of sick packs for a mini celebration and take out from the restaurant that you’d been eyeing from the moment you stepped into town.

“Are you sure that they’re gonna be okay with this?” Josh asked, who was sitting in the passenger’s side. You’d conned him into sticking around for a few hours as a way for thanking him and all of his hard work. But whenever he was in a room with a man’s last named Winchester, things never seemed to have turned out well. “I mean, I don’t think they exactly like me.”

“They’ve been going through a rough patch these past year and a half.” You admit, turning your head to look at Josh for a few moments. “But just give them about three beers, that’s when they start to loosen up. You’ll be best friends with them by the end of the night.”

You pulled the Impala into some back alley that seemed like a good enough of a hiding spot for now. Josh helped with most of the bags and soon all of you were heading up toward the motel room where the brothers were staying at. You knocked on the door with your free hand and waited a few moments before you saw the front door open revealing the oldest Winchester. Cracking a smile, you dangled the car keys in front of his face.

"Surprise! I come baring gifts.” You said, stepping inside the motel room. As you saw Josh follow behind in your footsteps, you immediately saw the annoyed glare from the oldest Winchester’s face. You returned the look, “Don’t even think about it. If it wasn’t for him, you would be rotting in jail and Baby crushed like scrap metal. Show the man some appreciation. Today is all about relaxing and enjoying our freedom, because tomorrow, we’re criminals.”

\+ + +

A few hours pass by with most of the beer bottles empty and spread around the place, the food that you had picked up was gone. You were on one of the beds with a half bottle hanging from your hand, letting out a giggle when someone’s telling a story from their childhood. From the looks on everyone’s faces, it seemed that whatever happened in the past was gone, and it was replaced by long talks about classic rock, some deep conversation about a topic only learned in college and a few embarrassing stories from your teenage years. You knew these three boys would get past their petty egos and bond, making you feel at ease.

"Oh, jeez,” Josh glanced down at his watch, lips twitching into a small frown when he caught sight of the time. “I didn’t know it was so late.”

“Don’t leave us just yet, things we’re getting fun.” You whined, titling your head to the side just slightly. “Can you stay for another hour?”

“Sorry, you know I wish I could, but my flight leaves at the crack of dawn. I still have a lot of packing to do.” Josh set down his beer bottle and got up from the chair he’s been sitting on for the past few hours.

“Here, let me at least walk you to your car before you leave again.” You say, pushing yourself off the bed and getting up toward the front door. As you hear the brothers say their final goodbye, you and Josh walk out into the cool night, walking down the stairs until the pavement crunched against your shoes. Looking toward your right, you gave Josh a smile. “Thank you again, I mean, you did so much for us. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Let’s just be honest, both of us make a pretty great team when it comes to breaking the law.” Josh couldn’t help himself but joke, laughing when he caught the smile that began to creep along the sides of your lips. “It was really good seeing you again, Y/N. Even though the circumstances can never be perfect, at least we’re both leaving on the right foot. I’m glad you made me stayed. I had a lot of fun.”

You could feel your smile growing at the news, “Me too.”

"But before I leave, just..be careful out there.” Josh said. “And if you seriously ever need to talk or want to come home for a while if this gets too much, I’ll find a way to get you. Because I want the next time I see you in a graveyard.”

"There’s still a lot I need to finish before I even think about going back home, Josh. I haven’t exactly told you everything, but details aren’t important. I don’t want you to worry about me.” You said, but you could see the concerned looks he was giving you. “Look, I promise nothing bad is going to happen to me. Cross my heart and hope to die if I’m wrong.”

“You’re too much, Y/N.” Josh muttered underneath his breath, cracking a grin. And before you knew it, you could feel his lips on your cheek, acting as his way of thanking you for everything that’s happened the past few days. “But that’s why you’re my best friend.”

You let out a laugh, pushing him slightly, as your head turned just a bit toward the top floor after catching sight of someone in the corner of your vision. A heat began to creep along the apples of your cheeks when you noticed that Dean was lingering in the doorway of the motel, obviously wondering what was taking so long. You mumbled another goodbye to Josh before he headed toward his car, finally heading back toward your hometown. You let out a long breath, feeling your heart begin to flutter in your chest, happy to see the look of jealousy in his eye.


	8. Crossroad Blues.

You leaned forward in your cushioned booth seat, you reached out an arm and snatched another fry from the plate that sat in front of the oldest brother, his second order that he’d been working on for the past half n’ hour. A victorious smirk spread across your lips when you caught sight of the man’s annoyed glances he kept giving you when he caught sight of you munching away, again he was too late to stop you. Sam sat next you, quiet for the past few minutes as he busied himself with searching something on his laptop, probably wondering what the length of the manhunt that’s been going on for the past week since leaving Baltimore.

The last case you’ve gotten involved with almost landed all of you with deadly consequences; the brothers could have seen nothing more than a prison cell wall, and if you guessed from the detective’s motive to keep his secrets buried, you six feet under after being the last victim. But you were lucky enough to pass through the cracks with a trusty cop that could have brushed off at least one crime, all though, your bruises were still seeming to fade less quickly than you had liked. From the distant stares across the diner, it seemed that people were taken back and began to wonder. Sam fractured wrist wasn’t helping with wandering eyes, either.

All though from what you saw on the laptop screen when you leaned over slightly to see what had kept the youngest Winchester so quiet, your lips began to stretch into a halfway smirk, trying your hardest not to let out the slightest noise from the horrible past that never seemed to go away.

“So much for our low profile.” Sam muttered underneath his breath, his eyes glancing up just the slightest from the computer screen so he could stare at the man sitting across from him. Dean just shoved another fry in his mouth, letting his other arm draped over the booth seat, obviously not having a care in the world about the murder charges hanging over his head that could result in prison time.

“Well, I have to be honest, they didn’t get your good side.” You said with a half chewed fry sitting beneath your tongue, staring at the mugshot of Dean Winchester on the computer screen. “You have a warrant in St. Louis, and now you’re officially in the Fed’s database. Well, done.“

"Dude, I’m like Dillinger or something.” Dean tried to make light of the information, cracking a smile before taking his glass and pressing it toward his lips. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes and shake your head at his horrible sense of humor. If anyone found out who he was, he sure wouldn’t be laughing when he’s being hauled off in handcuffs.

“Dean, it’s not funny.” Sam said, being the voice of reason for all of this. “It makes the job harder. We got to be more careful now.”

"Well,” Dean muttered, trying to change the subject of him and toward what had crossed his mind. “what do they got on the two of you?”

Sam’s eyes flickered down toward the laptop for a few moments, he moved around his jaw, knowing that during his search, he couldn’t find anything. It seemed that Ballard really did make those charges go away, after all. “I’m sure they just haven’t posted it yet.” Sam lied, furrowing his eyebrows just the slightest.

“No accessory,” Dean questioned, “nothing?”

“Who could believe that someone with this cute of a face could do any harm?” You couldn’t help yourself but reach out a hand and squeeze Sam’s cheek lightly, grinning when he began to turn red, yanking your arm away when his brother began to laugh. “And besides, I’ll take my outcome any day. Being a criminal doesn’t suit me.”

“You know, we could have done that whole Bonnie and Clyde thing. But I get it. You’re jealous.” Dean chuckled out, grabbing another fry to eat. “I would be, too.”

“No, I’m not!” You exclaimed, but lowered your voice when a few pair of eyes begin to wander over toward your booth again. You clear your throat, throwing daggers at a trucker before turning your attention toward the man sitting across from the table. Quickly, you grab another fry to keep yourself quiet before you could say something else that would draw attention none of you needed at the moment. “Just—Shut up.”

“Uh-huh.” Dean hummed, chewing on another fry. But when you rolled your eyes and let out a scoff, he shook his hand in the air, trying not to laugh. “All right, what do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young woman, you?”

You reached over the table and grabbed the pile of papers that you had been searching through this morning during the car ride. The article you had found about a man’s death seemed like something that could keep all of you out of trouble for the meantime, claiming that he was being attacked by black dogs that nobody else could see. “Listen to this, ‘architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home—a condominium he designed.’”

“Build a high rise and jump off—that’s classy.” Dean commented, you look up from the papers and gave him a serious look to stop joking. “When did he call animal control?”

“Two days earlier.“ You answered.

"And did he actually say 'black dogs’?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. 'Vicious, wild, black dog.’ The authorities couldn’t find it, and no one else saw it. In fact,” You lifted up a finger as you continued reading off the information that seemed to have only gotten more interesting, “The authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past a doorman, take the elevator up, and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town.” You said, looking up from the papers and glancing at the brothers. “After that, no more calls. He doesn’t show up for work. Two days later, he takes a swan dive.”

"You think we’re dealing with an actual black dog?” Dean asked, you shrugged your shoulders, knowing their guess was always better than yours. You shuffled around the papers and handed them over toward Dean’s awaiting hands.

“Well, maybe.” Sam suggested, as he was the one that has done of the research on this one, you had dug more into the deceased man’s history to see if there was any case of mental illness that could have caused these hallucinations. But he seemed sane enough and even quite happy, from what people had said about him in the papers.

“What’s the lore on it?” Dean asked, flicking through the papers.

“It’s all pretty vague. There are spectral black dogs all over the world, but some say they’re animal spirits, other say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they’re big, nasty—” Sam continued to explain what he could learn himself, trailing off slightly as he grabbed something from the side of the table that you were sitting and turned his attention down, but quickly looked up when his brother slipped in an unnecessary comment neither one of you wanted to hear.

“Yeah, bet they could hump the crap out of your leg. Look at that one. Huh?” Dean turned the papers around and showed you a drawing of someone’s imagination of the large black dog that was large enough to tower over them. You and Sam just gave him a blank stare as he chuckled to himself, obviously finding his joke amusing. When he noticed that neither one of you were cracking even the smallest smile, face dropped in a somewhat serious one. “What? They could.”

“They could also rip you limb from bloody limb with those long claws and sharp teeth of theirs.” You added grim details toward his joke, flashing him a smile with teeth, laughing at his face that slowly began to stretch into discomfort. “Now, that would be a sight to see. Wouldn’t it?”

\+ + +

Somehow, you felt under dressed when you stepped inside the swanky apartment building that was filled with successful looking people, walking pass the three of you without even a second glance, going on their merry way. You had to admit this place was nothing more than luxury, and sure as hell expensive from the small details in the wallpaper and carpet that seemed good enough to just sink your feet into. Your skin could be green from the envy you felt as you headed up toward the top of the building, where the deceased man had lived comfortably for a decade or so. Until the hallucinations began. It still made your curious mind wonder; how could a man that seemed to have no history of depression or any sort of triggering behaviors, just lose it and kill himself at the prime of his career?

You rounded the corner of the first floor of the penthouse, making your way into the kitchen where you saw the brothers lingering around, the man’s business partner was leaning against one of the island, his palm pressed against his forehead. You could tell he was still in shock from everything that happened, and not happy to have a few people poking their nose in his business for some bogus article you said you were writing on the deceased man. Sneaking a few more glances around the large home, you finally settled your attention on the topic that was beginning to be discussed more in detail.

“So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?” Sam started asking the questions, you had the pen and pad of paper in your hands, getting ready to write down any sort of information that seemed important enough.

“That’s right.” The partner mumbled, lowering his hand just the slightest as he looked over at the youngest brother, nodding his head for his answer. “Now, one more time, this is for…”

“A tribute for Mr. Boyden,” Dean answered, flashing a small smile.” Architectural Digest.”

But when a chuckle began to come rolling out of the man’s mouth, you couldn’t help yourself but seem a little bit taken back, giving him a curious look. “Is this funny to you?” You asked.

"No, it—it’s just a tribute. Yeah.” He mumbled, nodding his head again as he looked in your direction, you raised an eyebrow up, wondering what had suddenly made him change his mood so fast. “See, Sean always got the tributes.” Ah, the jealous partner, even after he’s buried, the feelings were still harbored in his mindset of the man. “He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind, but gets another tribute.”

“Right.” Sam said, looking at you for a moment, but you shrugged your shoulders, not knowing if you should have put anything down. He glanced back over at the man, deciding to see if there was a motivation toward the unexpected suicide. “Any idea why he would do such a thing?”

“I have no clue.” He admitted, “He lived a charmed life.”

Sam seemed to have found the wording rather interesting as he pried deeper, “How so?”

“He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I’m capable, but, next to him, uh,” The partner trailed off a moment, letting out a breath before saying the last part that made you look up from your notes, seeming that there was something off about this. “It wasn’t always that way, either.”

“No?”

“You want to know the truth?” He asked, you nodded your head, wanting to hear what had made this man a sudden overnight sensation. “There was a time where he couldn’t even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago, he was working as a bartender at this place called Lloyd's, a complete dive.”

“So, what changed?” You curiously wondered.

“You got me. But overnight he gets this come comission, and he starts designing—he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like the level of Van Gogh and Mozart.” He explained to all of you. As he began to fall silent again, you could see the reality of the situation was beginning to creep up on him again. “It…”

“What?”

“It’s funny—true geniuses, they seem to die young, don’t they?” The partner began to think out loud, making you and Dean seemed taken back, but you let him continue his thoughts. “To have that kind of talent, why…Why just throw it away?” That’s what the three of you were here for. But you just clicked your pen against the pad, giving the man nothing more than a sympathetic smile that you hoped would make him feel just a bit better for the meantime.

\+ + +

The next stop of the investigation was animal control; you sat in the backseat with your heels resting on the bottom of the car, you were resting your legs on the front seats, you waited ever so patiently for the oldest Winchester to get the information that was needed. But twenty minutes of waiting for the man was beginning to drive you crazy, because knowing him, there was something young and pretty distracting him from doing his job. Your eyes trailed toward the front door to see that it opened up, and finally, stepped out the man you’d been patiently waiting for. A piece of paper waved around in the wind as he headed toward the car again, all though, his blank expression soon stretched into a frown when he caught sight of your feet resting on top of the driver’s seat.

“What? I wanted to show off my pedicure that I worked on last night.” You joked, wiggling your toes as he bent down to scold you, just inches from his face at the open window. You let out a laugh as you swung your feet toward the floor when he only frowned again, but finally settled himself inside the car again, slamming the door shut. “So, did you get anything good?”

“The secretary’s name is Carley.” Dean began, telling you and his brother details that made you roll your eyes into the back of your head. He sure can be too predictable for his own good. “She’s twenty-three. She kayaks…” A smirk began to spread across his lips, turning his attention to his brother for the final detail. “And they’re real.”

“She sounds real cute,” You said, giving the oldest Winchester a smile. “And totally out of your league. Now, while you were wasting our time, you didn’t happen to ask her if she’s seen any black dogs, did you?”

“Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black or doglike.” Dean began to explain, handing the sheet over toward Sam so he could take a look over of the complaints. “There’s nineteen calls in all, and uh, I don’t know what this is.”

You leaned over slightly more in the seat when Dean pulled off a yellow sticky note and gave it to Sam to inspect. When you read what it was, you found yourself quietly laughing along with the youngest Winchester. “You mean, Carly’s MySpace address?” You asked, trying your hardest not to laugh again. “Maybe she does like you, after all.”

“Yeah, MySpace—what the hell is that?” Dean wondered. You and Sam looked at one another, quiet for a few moments, before the both of you were bursting out into a fit of giggles like a couple of schoolkids. And the other brother’s face wasn’t helping, either. “Seriously, is that like some sort of porn site?”

Just from that comment alone, you felt a louder laugh escaped your throat, finding his thought of the site more amusing than it should have been.

\+ + +

Halfway through the list, you and the brothers were now heading up toward another house with a complaint of a dog that seemed to have described the one that Sean Boyden had complained about before plummeting to his death. You had took a quick background check of all the people that had made a call toward animal control, the next woman that you had checked out seemed to have no history of mental problems, so you were ready to see if this was going to be another bust. As you reached out to knock on the door, your eyes slowly trailed over toward Dean that was standing next to you, still seeming to have been disturbed from the last house you visited. A small, toy dog seemed to have been friendly to most people, but not the oldest Winchester.

“I swear, if this is another freakin’ pomeranian barking in the neighbor’s backyard,” He mumbled underneath his breath, overlooking the neighborhood before the front door opened to reveal a woman, but not the one that you were looking for. “Afternoon, ma'am, uh,” He pulled out the fake badge, showing it off toward the woman. “animal control.”

“Oh,” She said, seeming a little surprised, “someone already came yesterday.”

“We’re just following up.” Sam explained, giving the three of you coverage to keep this investigation going without it heading south, knowing if could have ended badly in none of you were careful enough. “We’re looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman.”

From the look that began to stretch across the other woman’s face, you knew that something seemed out of the ordinary. She welcomed you inside, heading toward the kitchen where she had been previously working in. “The doctor, well, she—I don’t know exactly when she’ll be back.” She tried to explain, settling herself back across from the island. “She left two days ago.”

“Okay. And you are?” Sam asked, smiling slightly.

“I’m Miss. Pearlman’s maid.” She said.

“So, where did the doctor go?” Dean asked the woman, deciding to see if she knew anything.

“I’m not sure. She just packed and went. She didn’t say where.” The woman explained, shrugging her shoulders ever so slightly. “That stray dog, did you find it finally?”

“Uh, not yet.” Sam lied, giving her a half smile. “You didn’t ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?”

“Well, no.” She admitted. “I never even heard it. I was almost starting to think the doctor was imagining things, but she’s not like that, so…”

“You know,” You spoke up, giving the woman that was standing across from you a smile, deciding to see if you could find a similar pattern in the two people that seemed to have suddenly been going crazy. “I read she was the chief surgeon at the hospital. So she’s got to be, what, forty-two, forty-three? That’s pretty young for that job.”

“Youngest in the history of the place.” She explained, growing a smile that seemed like it was a big achievement, but what she said next made the wheels in your head turn faster. “She got the position ten years ago.”

“Huh.” You mumbled, giving her another weak smile. “An overnight success, ten years ago. Yeah,” You turn your head to look at the brothers, obviously making the connection that you had from their subtle facial expressions. “We know a guy like that.”

“Oh, look at this.” Dean said, heading over toward the two of you with a photograph. You looked to see it was a photograph of the doctor a few of her friends, seeming to have a good time. You didn’t seem to know what the importance of it was, that was, until he turned it around to see what was written on the back: Lloyd’s Bar, November, 1996. Your eyes flickered back up toward the man. “Lloyd’s bar.”

\+ + +

A long, drawn out sigh escaped Andrew’s lips when he found his body settled down on the couch, happy to feel his body relax after having such a long afternoon. It was going on nine o'clock at night, his wife was snuggled up toward his side with a photo album and an opened bottle of their favorite red wine they’d shared on their wedding night. Everything seemed perfect about this night.

He draped his arm over the couch and settled himself closer to his wife, who had been tracing an old picture of the two of them on their third anniversary; it was the two of them in some rundown bar, a matching pair of goofy grins and half empty bottles of cheap beer were resting in their hands. He had remembered that night extremely well, knowing what the events had taken place of that romantic feeling in the air, soon brought them what was sleeping peacefully upstairs. He leaned down, feeling his smile grow toward what he saw in the picture.

“You know, we could head down there again.” Andrew whispered, deciding to bring up a topic that neither one of them had spoken about since their daughter was born. “Get some cheap motel room like last time, and just see if the magic’s still there.”

“What are we going to do with Y/N?” Ella turned away from the photographs and looked at her husband, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. “We can’t exactly bring a two year old toward that kind of place. And I don’t feel comfortable enough leaving her alone for a long period of time. She’s only two, after all.”

“Ah, two and half, today. We need to start planning out her birthday, make sure that it’s the best one yet.” Andrew teased his wife with the fact, “And…I think if we surprise her with another sibling, it might be good for her. You know how she gets when she gets to see babies, she practically thinks of Sam as her own brother. I know Mary and John will look after her for the weekend, they think of her as their own daughter. And, it gives the boys and her more time to bond. What do you say?”

Ella nervously licked her lips, not sure what to say. But she kept the secret buried down in her mind, closing the photo album, plopping it back down toward the coffee table. Grabbing her wine glass and getting up from the couch, she looked over her shoulder and gave the man a smirk, deciding to change the mood, "Coming to bed, dear?”

“In a minute,” Andrew said, getting up from the couch and quickly pressing a kiss toward his wife’s lips. “I’m gonna make sure everything is locked up. I need to keep my ladies safe.” Ella couldn’t help herself but smile, nodding her head before trailing toward the staircase, soon disappearing from sight again.

Andrew started his normal routine; checking all the doors to make sure they were securely locked, every window for extra precaution. As he headed toward the patio door to peek outside for one sweep of the yard, suddenly he whipped his head toward the center of the yard when he heard something viciously growling, like a rabid dog. He squinted his eyes, trying to see if he could see in the darkness when the noises began to grow louder. His hand reached for the light switch, knowing this day had been nothing but good. As he expected to see that familiar beast he’d called a pet for so many years, but he was taken back at what was really there—nothing.

\+ + +

Lloyd’s bar where was all the magic that seemed to have happened; where people had become overnight success stories, but ended with deadly consequences. You stepped out of the Impala when you heard the engine shut off, the dirt path that lead the three of you here had trailed up toward a small looking bar that had a few other cars parked beside it. You slammed the door shut and began following behind the brothers, who were inspecting everything around them with fine detail. As you made your way up the path, you turned your head to see there was something rather strange about this place, how the road was laid out. You noticed that the paths were formed with four different pathways, all making it a perfect crossroads.

As you turned your head toward your left to get another glance around the place that only seemed to have weeds or dying plants from lack of attention, something yellow and full of life brought your attention toward the flowers, and the familiarity of it caught you off guard. You took a step forward closer toward it, trying your hardest to figure out what these things reminded you of. When you reached out to touch the flower, you suddenly began to realize why. There was always a vase full of them, dried out, on the coffee table when your mother was alive. She had said they were the last type of flowers your father gave to her before he passed away. But you didn’t know they were something more sinister about them that she never told you.

“Hey.” You turned your head to see that Dean had caught sight of the flowers that you were now crouching down and investigating with much interest. Sam glanced over to see what his brother was pointing at, mumbling a yeah for the older man to continue. But as they began to look around more at the other sides of the road, they were everywhere. “That’s weird.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“Think someone planted these?” Dean wondered, heading over toward the side of the road where you had gotten up from, plucking out a flower, still not sure what was so special about them. They seemed like the type of plant that could have been harmless, but you glanced up when the brothers began talking, explaining what they really were.

“In the middle of all these weeds?” Sam asked, the both of them reaching out a foot to kick them around a bit in the mix of dried out plants.

“These are, uh, what do you call them?” Dean questioned his brother, seeming to forget.

“Yarrow flowers?” Sam guessed, glancing back at the man.

“What makes them so special? I mean, it’s just a flower. We had some sitting in our house for a few years.” You said, throwing the one that you had plucked from the ground toward the middle of the field, watching as it disappeared from sight. When you looked back over at the brothers, it seemed that you were wrong about what you had once presumed. You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, not sure what was making them look like they were sucking on a sour candy. “What?”

“They’re used for certain rituals.” Dean tried to explain, he nodded his head toward his brother for an example, “Aren’t they?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam answered, his face stretching into a bit of surprise when he realized what they could have been. “Summoning rituals.”

Dean thought about it for a few moments before a chuckle escaped his throat, he shoved his hands inside his leather jacket before he turned around to look at the middle of the road. “So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago, right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd’s.”

“Where there just happens to be a crossroads.” You mumbled, suddenly having an idea of what was going on. When you glanced at the road, a sudden strange feeling began to sit in the pit of your stomach. You glanced back over at the older man, wondering if your suspicions were about to come true. “You think?”

“Let’s find out.” Dean says. He starts for the middle of the road with you and his brother following behind, as he steps at the center of the crossroads, he makes sure it’s the right spot. “Seem about the dead center to you?”

You took a few steps back and tilted your head to the side slightly, you nodded your head when he was at the right spot. You got a shovel from the car and handed it toward Dean so he could start digging. It was about a minute of shoveling around gravel until you heard the sound of something banging against the metal. You turned your head down to see something in the rubble, a shiny object reflected off the sun. Glancing up, it seemed that you had found what all of you were looking for. “Yahtzee.”

Dean threw the shovel toward the ground and dropped toward a crouch to inspect what was buried in the dirt. He reached down and pulled out a small metal box, brushing off some of the dirt, he opened it to reveal a strange amount of objects. Sam dropped toward his brother’s height and grabbed a small, clear bottle that was filled with a dark color dirt that he shook around slightly as the other brother pulled out something that looked like to be an animal’s bone from the smallness and shape.

“I’d be willing to be that’s graveyard dirt.” Sam said, shaking around the bottle a bit more before glancing over at what his brother was holding as he tossed the object back it into the canister. “And a black cat bone.”

“That’s serious spell work.” You noted, beginning to remember from all the lores that you had read about, what not to do when it came to dealing with soulless monsters that only like to caused pain and destruction, but a few were willing to make someone’s dream come true. “I mean, that’s deep south hoodoo stuff. Isn’t this used to summon a demon?”

“Not just summon one.” Dean said, closing the box before getting up. “Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know,” His tone changed into a sarcastic one, obviously knowing these people had what was coming to them. Play with fire, the victim was bound to get burned. “Cause that always ends good.”

“They’re seeing dogs, all right, but not black dogs,” Sam added on, looking around the field before turning his attention toward the two of you. “They’re seeing hellhounds—demonic pit bulls.”

“As if this job couldn’t get anymore fun.” You muttered underneath your breath, and as if you had seen everything that Hell had to offer, it decided to add one more creature into the mix. “Whoever this demon is, it’s back and it’s collecting. And that doctor, wherever she’s running, she isn’t running fast enough.” Because you can’t run from your past, no matter how hard you try. It always has a way of coming back and biting you right in the butt. Or in this case, animals dragging these people down to Hell.

“So, it’s just like the Robert Johnson legend, right?” Sam asked, breaking your concentration from your thoughts as all of you settled back toward the Impala. You sat yourself on the hood, listening toward what he was about to say next. “I mean, ‘selling your soul at the crossroads’ kind of deal?”

“Except that wasn’t a legend. You know his music.” Dean said, but when you caught sight of Sam shaking his head, you and the other one looked at each other for a few moments. You had known about the man even before starting hunting, he was famous for singing the blues, despite what the history he had made for himself. “You don’t know Robert Johnson songs?” Dean asked, his brother made a face before shaking his head. “Sam, there’s occult references all over his lyrics. I mean, 'Cross road blues,’ 'Me and the devil blues.”

“'Hellhounds on my trail?’” You put in another title, hoping that could have been the one that could have struck something in the mind’s mind, but he shrugged it off. “Okay. Story goes that he died choking on his own blood. He was hallucinating and muttering about big, evil dogs.”

“And now it’s happening all over again.” Sam muttered, you nodded your head. “We got to find out if anyone else struck any bargains.”

“Right, so we got to clean up these people’s mess for them?” Dean questioned, immediately shooting down the idea. But Sam shot his brother a dirty glare. “They’re not exactly squeaky-clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play 'let’s make a deal.’”

“So, what, we’re supposed to leave them to die?” Sam asked, you let out a sigh. 

'Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, are you going to jump in and try to save them?“ You retorted, when he said your name, you shook your head. "Nope. I’m not getting—”

“All right, fine.” Dean cut you off, mumbling to himself. You struck him with a glare of your own, not exactly happy he was going along with this suicide mission. “Rituals like this, you gotta put your own photo into the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned the thing.” He held up a pocket size photograph of a young man, smiling. “Let’s see if anyone inside knows him.”

“If he’s still alive.” You add on, watching as the older brother began to wander toward the bar. You glanced over at the other one, your lips stretching into a frown. “I hope you realize what you’re getting yourself into. Because it’s not gonna end pretty.” You ignored Sam’s looks of confusion, you jumped off the hood of the car and began to head inside, deciding to lend a helping hand to get this horrible case over with before someone important got hurt.

\+ + +

When you gathered the information and identity of who was in the photographs, you and the brothers found the location of where the man had been living. It wasn’t exactly a classy joint from the other ones that you had been toward. As you wandered up the stairs of the apartment, you turned your attention toward the youngest Winchester when he spoke up since arriving. “What’s this guy’s name, again?”

“George Darrow.” You answered. “Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd’s.”

“This house probably ain’t up on the next 'MTV Cribs,’ is it?” Dean wondered, glancing around the rundown looking hallway as all of you kept going up stairs that never seems to have end. Sam let out a chuckle, mumbling a yeah. “So whatever kind of deal he made, wasn’t for cash. Ah, who knows? Maybe his place is full of babes in princess Leia bikinis.”

You shoved the man slightly as he made an inappropriate gesture, he just clicked his tongue and playfully winked at you. Sam let out a sigh, obviously not find his brother’s humor amusing, either. “I’m just saying, this guy’s got one epic bill coming.” Dean said. “Hope at least he asked for something fun.”

Two floors later; you were now standing in front of 4C, where George had lived. As you glanced down, there was something lining the doorway that caught your attention. It was a long stripe of some kind of black powder.

“Look at that.” You said, gesturing toward what you had found with your pointer finger. You bent down to take a closer look at what it was, as your fingertip ran down the substance, you picked up enough residue, and out of curiosity, you put your finger up, getting a whiff of the stuff. But you pulled back, not expecting for it to smell familiar as your nose began to tickle, threatening to sneeze. “What is that, pepper?”

But your attention was quickly ripped away when you heard the door squeak open, your eyes jumped upward to see a man in the photograph, but aged by ten years with noticeable wrinkles and graying hair. You got up when you caught sight of his facial expressions, not sure how to explain what you were doing. All you could do was politely smile and wish for the best.

“Who the hell are you?” The man questioned, looking at the three of you suspiciously. When Dean said his full name, wondering if all of you were at the right place, the man quickly became defensive, not wanting to see if his own suspicions were true. “I’m not buying anything.” As he went to slam the door on your face, but as there was just a crack left,Dean spoke up again, deciding to poke his nose deeper into this mess.

“Whoa, looks like you went for the wrong shaker, there.” Dean said, letting out a chuckle as George glanced down at the line before looking back at the man. “Usually, when you want to keep something evil out, you go for the salt.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” George mumbled, still continuing to deny everything.

“Talking about this.” Dean said. He reached inside his leather jacket pocket and pulled out the photograph that all of you had found, the reason why you were standing here in the first place. He reached out an arm and let the man stare at it. “Tell me, you seen that hellhound yet?”

“Look, went want to help.” Sam said, trying to take the softer approach, hoping all of you weren’t scaring the man with all sorts of talk that was going to lead him toward his death. “Please, just five minutes.”

George seemed a bit hesitant, but finally after a few seconds of silence, you heard the squeaks of the door hinges echo in the halls as he opened up the door toward his apartment further. You stepped inside first, following behind the man, who went over and began to pour himself a drink. You looked around at his apartment to see that the walls were covered with all sorts of artwork and supplies, everything was quite magnificent from your personal thoughts. It would take talent to make something make what you had saw.

“So,” Sam started up another conversation, “What is that stuff out front?”

“Goofer dust.” George said, reaching up to take a sip of his drink. But when he caught sight of your confused faces, not sure what it really was meant for, he let out a sigh. “What, you kids think you know something about something, but not goofer dust?”

He shook his head and turned it toward the table where he was standing in front of, reaching out to grab a small bag, all before throwing it toward the older Winchester without a warning. Dean grabbed it with his left hand without even missing. “Well, we know a little about a lot of things, just enough to make us dangerous.” Dean commented, adding a little humor as he peeked inside the bag out of curiosity.

“What is it?” You asked, wondering what it really was for.

“Hoodoo. My grandma taught me.” George explained. “Keeps out demons.”

“Demons, we know.” You heard Dean muttered, letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Well, then, keep it.” George said, grabbing the bottle of liquor and full glass, heading over toward the other side of the room. “Maybe it’ll do you some good.” As he placed down his contents on another table, he looked over at the three of you. “Four minutes left.”

You and the brothers glanced over at one another, not thinking that the man could have been taking the time limit serious. But you knew if none of you moved fast enough, another one would have paid for their consequences. “Mr. Darrow,” Sam started again, pausing for a few moments before speaking up. “We know you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, that you got yourself into.” You mumbled underneath your breath, ignoring the daggers that Sam had thrown at you for the unwanted comment. You turned your head just the slightest, knowing that you were right about this, but Sam wouldn’t stop trying to protect everyone that got themselves into the mess that caused a brutal end of their life.

“But it’s not hopeless, all right?” Sam looked back over at the older man. “There’s gotta be something that we can do.”

“Listen, I get that you kids want to help,” George said, brushing off the younger brother’s promises as he sat down in a recliner, making it known that he had seen what you were still trying to push on Sam since he struck up the idea back at the crossroads. Maybe the one that had the short end of the stick would give Sam a clear understanding that none of you could break a deal. “But sometimes a person makes their bed and they just got to lie down in it. "I’m the one called that demon in the first place.” He admitted, shaking his glass around slightly. You turned your head to give the youngest Winchester a told-you-so look.

“What’d you do it for?” Dean asked.

“I was weak. I mean, who doesn't want to be great? Who don’t want their life to mean something? I just…” George let out a shaky sigh, “I just never thought about the price.”

You couldn’t help yourself but ask, “Was it worth it?”

“Hell, no. Course, I asked for talent.” George finally admitted. “Should have gone for fame. I’m still broke…and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings that nobody want.” As he let out another sigh, you took a glance around the artwork again before your head whipped back toward the man. “That wasn’t the worse.”

"Go on.” Sam said, trying to get the man to tell the rest of the story.

“Demon didn’t leave. I never counted on that.” George said. “After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd’s for a week, just chatting, making more deals. I tried to warn folks, but who gonna listen to an old drunk?”

“How many others are there?” Sam asked the dreaded question.

“Uh, this architect, a doctor lady.” George said. All of them dead, you thought to yourself. “I kept up with them. They been in the papers.” He let out another sigh, “At least they got famous.”

“Who else, George?” Dean questioned the man. “Come on, think.”

“Oh, one more. Uh, nice guy, too.” George said, swallowing his sip. “Hudson—Even, I think. I don’t know what he asked for. Don’t matter now. We done for.”

“No.” Sam said, shaking his head. “No, there’s got to be a way.”

“You don’t get it.” George said, putting his glass on the table. “I don’t want a way.”

“Look, you don't—”

“Look,” George jumped up from his chair, cutting off the youngest Winchester mid sentence. “I called that thing! I brought it on myself!” His voice elevated, but quickly lowered it when he realized what he had done. “I brought it on them.” He shook his head, turning around to grab something. “I’m going to Hell, one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I’m done. I’m just trying to hold him till then, buy a little time.”

And with all of his emotions that had been bottled up all of these years finally out in the open, George had enough. “Okay, kids, time you went. Go help somebody that wants help.” But Sam still seemed like he could have fixed the problem, trying to persuade the man, but George still wouldn’t break. "Get out!” He yelled, turning away from his unfinished painting. “I got work to do.”

“You don’t really want to die.” Sam said, trying his hardest, but he still wouldn’t learn.

George turned away from his painting, “I don’t?” He questioned. You could see that he was giving up, there was no point of fighting anymore when he knew there was no more changing the past he set himself up for. Shaking his head, George mumbled out something. “I’m tired.”

With that being said, he grabbed his paint and began to work, ignoring the three of you. Knowing that you shouldn’t deny a dead man’s wish, you turned yourself on your heels and headed for the front door, knowing that his fight was already ending quicker than any of you could help with. But if Sam was serious about at least helping one more person, you knew there was a chance his wish could come true.

\+ + + 

When you read the “Beware of Dog” sign as you pushed open the gate, you couldn’t help yourself but let out an awkward chuckle, not sure if the humor or bad timing of the situation caused you to let one slide as you made your way up the porch steps of Evan Hudson’s home. Night was beginning to fall after all of you managed to track down the last person who’d made a deal, from what George could remember before losing himself in the thought that his life was over. You shoved your hands inside your pockets, watching as the youngest Winchester reached out and knocked on the door, loud enough to echo through the downstairs of the home. The three of you waited a few moments before the front door opened to reveal an older man, who seemed harmless enough, not sure what laid ahead for him. 

“Yes?” The man asked, looking the three of you over before his eyes fixated on Sam, who was the first one to speak up.

“Evan Hudson?” Sam wanted to make sure, when the man nodded his head and mumbled out a yeah, the other brother decided to be a little bit bolder and dig more.

“You ever been to bar named Lloyd’s?” Dean asked. “Would have been about ten years ago.” The words lingered in the air for just a few moments, all before you flinched when the front door was slammed right in your faces. You knew that was the wrong approach when you caught sight of the fear in the man’s eyes, obviously thinking you were here to collect the soul he promised all those years ago. “Come on,” Dean called out, obviously not amused at what just happened. “We’re not demons.”

You let out a scoff at what just happened, you looked at the older man. “Any more bright ideas, idiot?” You remarked. Dean shrugged, knowing there was just one more he had up his sleeve. He lifted up his leg and kicked the front door wide open, you couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, as if the man wasn’t more frightened, this was just the icing on top of the cake. You just hoped Evan wasn’t smart enough to have brought back up toward this fight that could have only ended bad enough for one of you. As the three of you wandered around to find out where the man was hiding, you had a suspicion that it could have been the room with the double doors from the sounds of footsteps echoing in the silent air.

You nodded your head toward the right side of the door that you were standing next toward, but just as Dean decided to swing up his leg to kick it down again, you quickly jumped in front of him to stop. You gave him a stern look, shaking your head, knowing that the man was scared out of his mind. Sam walked forward and reached out a hand to open up the door slowly,he peeked around to see that it was an office,and by the looks of it, an empty one. As you followed behind the brothers, Sam called out the man’s name, hoping that would draw him out from hiding. Your head quickly turned toward the sidhe when you saw Evan himself with his hands thrown up in a surrendering position.

“Please!” He shouted, still thinking that all of you were here to kill him. “Don’t hurt me.”

“We’re not here to hurt you, all right?” Sam threw up his hands himself, stepping forward as he tried to convince the man. “We’re here to help you.”

“We know all about that genius deal you made.” Dean said, piping into the conversation.

“What?” Evan questioned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Sam said. “All that matters is we’re trying to stop it.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Evan asked suspiciously.

“Well, you don’t,” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “But you’re kind of running low on options, there, buddy boy.”

Evan swallowed and let out a quiet sigh, walking toward his desk, almost in a daze before asking a question. “C-Can you stop it?” He couldn’t help himself but ask, before running a hand down his face.

“Don’t know.” Sam admitted. “We’ll try.”

The room fell silent before you heard, “I don’t want to die,” come mumbling out of Evan’s mouth. You wanted to tell him that he should have thought about the consequences, but you couldn’t do it, you suddenly felt wrong about kicking someone that was already down, scared at the end of his rope. This is what the three of you did for a living. You suddenly wondered what he made a deal for.

“Of course you don’t.” Dean spoke up, you quickly turned your head toward the man, knowing exactly where this was going. He was going off the edge again. “Not now.”

“Dean, stop.” Sam tried, but his brother didn’t.

“What’d you ask for, anyway, Ev, huh?” Dean questioned the man, but it turned into taunts from the accusations he began throwing around. “Never need Viagra, bowl a perfect game, what?”

Evan shifted his attention around the room, looking at the oldest Winchester before fixating something on the floor. “My wife.”

“Right, getting the girl.” Dean chuckled out, seem of to find the man’s answer a little too amusing, not realizing there was more. “That’s worth a trip to hell for.”

“Dean, shut up.” You hissed at him, finally have enough of his snarky comments that were getting all of you nowhere.

“No. He’s right. I made the deal.” Evan said, this time, he seemed more confident and ready to stand his ground for what he had loved for his wife as he began to take a few steps forward, getting ready to defend himself. “Nobody twisted my arm. That, uh, woman, or whatever she was, at the bar, she said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts, at first, but…” Suddenly he grew silent for a moment or so, letting out a sigh before changing his mood again. “I don’t know. I was—I was desperate.”

“Desperate?” Sam repeated, his brows furrowing, seeming that he wasn’t getting it.

Evan wandered around so he was now facing now with his back turned toward the three of you, he leaned over the desk, waiting a few seconds before admitting what had brought the trouble for today. “Julie was dying.” He admitted. And suddenly the room fell quiet.

You licked your bottom lip; he didn’t do it become famous, or because he wanted talent or that dream job—he sold his soul so he could cure his wife. “You did it to save her?” You heard Dean ask, you knew it was just getting him all riled up, knowing this has hit closer to home toward him than he would have confessed. But you were quick to connect the dots he kept hinting around.

“She had cancer. They had stopped treatment. They were moving her into hospice. They kept saying ‘matter of days.’ So, yeah, I made that deal,” Eva said, but turning around again to face the three of you, his confidence was back. “And I’d do it again. I’d have died for her on the spot.”

“Did you ever think about her in all of this?” The oldest Winchester asked, poking his opinion where it didn’t belong.

“I did this for her.” Evan argued, looking at the man straight in the eye.

“You sure about that?” Dean question, his face scrunching up in anger as he took a step forward. You and Sam watched as he slowly turned toward the side that you had saw when you were working that zombie case, getting all defensive when someone messed with death. “I think you did it for yourself, so you wouldn’t have to live without her. But, guess what, she’s gonna have to live without you now.” Evan kept himself silent, not wanting to hear the bitter truth. “What if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she’d feel?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” You couldn’t help yourself but step into the conversation, heading over toward the oldest Winchester, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep him from saying anything else. And for the first time, you were hearing yourself agree with the plan that Sam had wanted to do. “Evan, sit tight, all right? We’re gonna figure this out.” 

But from the corner of your eye, you watched as the first brother turned around and headed out the double doors. You and Sam shared quick glances of worry before following behind the man, wanting to know what had happened in there. You followed behind the youngest Winchester, hoping that he would be the one that could have brought something more out of the other brother.

“You alright?” Sam asked, speaking when all of you were in the hallway.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean ignored the concerns, turning himself around on his heels and looking at the both of you. He put a hand inside the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the black bag, tossing it in your direction. “Hey, I got an idea. You throw George’s hoodoo at the hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I’m gonna go down to the crossroads and summon the demon.”

Your eyes quickly jumped up from the bag, you stared at the man as if he sprouted a second head. “Summon—are you nuts?” You questioned the man, you couldn’t help yourself but shake your head at his idea of a plan.

Dean pouted out his lips slightly. “Maybe a little. But I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us some time to figure out something more permanent.”

“Yeah, but how much more time?” You questioned the man.

“I don’t know. Awhile.” Dean said. “It’s not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from Hell and into the sunshine.”

“No.” Sam said, shaking his head as he forced a small smile. “No way.”

“Not Y/N or you are allowed to say no, Sammy, unless,” Dean pointed out, your lips stretched into a slight frown as he continued, “You two got a better idea.”

“Dean, you can forget it, all right? We’re not letting you summon that demon.” You ordered, not liking how he began to question you, even ignoring how his face scrunched up in anger when you began to throw around accusations that the three of you knew were true. “Because I don’t like where your head’s at right now. You’ve been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think we know why.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Dean grumbled out, ignoring the lingering stares as he began to make his way down the hall, but Sam’s voice stopped him in his tracks from what he said.

“Dad.” Sam said, finally speaking the truth that all of you had been thinking about since that infamous night in the hospital. “You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh?” You watched as Dean finally turned around, staring at the both of you. You could see the sadness beginning to creep in his eyes. “Hell, I’ve been thinking about it. I’m sure you’ve been thinking it, too.”

The three of you fell silent, suddenly you weren’t sure what to say, knowing that it could have been a strong possibility. Honestly, you weren’t sure what could have been a proper response to what all of you were thinking. “It fits, doesn’t it? I’m alive, Dad’s dead. Yellow-eyed demon was involved.” Dean spoke up again, you nervously swallowed. “What if he did? What if struck a deal? My life for his soul?” Before either one of you could comment more on the situation, life had a funny way of showing you what was more important at the moment. Something was here.

“Hey, guys, I think I hear it!” Evan shouted from the other room. “It’s outside!”

“Just keep him alive, okay?” Dean ordered, suddenly changing his tune, marching forward toward the end of the hall. You couldn’t help yourself but call out his name, but you stopped in your tracks. “Go!” He barked at you, not even bothering to look at either one of you again before he soon disappeared from sight.

You glanced over your shoulder and made eye contact with Sam, knowing the look in his eye was nothing more than fear of what could happen. As you opened your mouth to say something, all that came tumbling out was a shaky sigh. Not even you had confidence that this was going to end well for either one of you in this situation. 

\+ + +

Almost every window and crack you or Sam could think of was covered with the black dust; you stood with your hands on your hips, watching as Sam finished covering the edges of the fireplace. Evan stood in the middle of the room, but decided to question what was being poured around him as Sam bent down and began to protect the man. “What is that stuff?”

“Goofer dust.” You explained, crossing your arms over your chest.

Evan’s face scrunched up slightly, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Afraid so.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders. You really didn’t have the patience tonight of answering a handful of questions. “Look, believe us, don’t believe us—whatever you want. Just whatever you do, stay inside the circle, all right?”

The room fell silent for just a few moments, the only sounds you could hear were your own breathing that went out in steady strides, but you could feel your eyes slowly beginning to linger around toward the double doors. Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard the sound of something growling. And you weren’t the only one that could hear it this time. Evan’s head whipped toward the door, his face stretching in fear when he realized what it was.

"You hear that?” Evan whispered, his tone low.

“No.” Sam admitted, seeming to be the only one that wasn’t picking up on the hellhound that seemed to have been closer than the comfort you had been okay with. But there was no going back now. “Where?” Everything was quiet for a few moments before your head quickly turned toward the doors, you nervously swallowed when you realized it was right here.

“Right outside the door.” Evan answered, pointing a finger toward the wood.

The snarling began again and soon the door were shaking, you snatched Sam by the wrist and yanked him into the circle, not exactly wanting to be the in the line of fire if this went south. And just a few seconds later, the barking continued, that hellhound was determined to get what it came here for.

“Just don’t move, all right?” Sam ordered for the both of you. “Stay where you are.”

You stood, frozen like a statue as the pounding and the shaking of the doors continued for a few minutes. Nothing but fear wracked your body, knowing that if you or Sam stepped in the way, there could be a chance that one of you would be the victim of claw marks. Something that you didn’t want to cross off your bucket list before dying from the blood loss that would soon follow after. All though, everything soon changed—the growling stopped, the shaking was paused.

“Do you still hear it?” You asked the man, turning your attention to Evan, hoping that you were right about them being gone.

“No.” He said, looking around the room. “Is it over?” The three of you glanced around until your attention shifted toward the air vent that wasn’t blocked off. As the growls began ringing in your ears again, you watched as the metal vent went flying across the room, knocking past a love seat. “It’s here! Can’t you see it?”

You couldn’t see it, but you could very well hearing the barking and presence, but you could almost picture a black mutt; lips curled out into a snarl as it showed off its canine fangs, long drips of drool falling out of its mouth like a rabies infected monster, but their poison was the thirst of their victim’s blood.

“No. Stay inside the circle!” Sam barked out again, trying to keep the two of you from trying and pointing out where it could be. As you looked over Sam’s arm that was keeping you blocked, your eyes glanced down toward the floor, quickly catching the sight of the claw marks that began to become stretched into the floor. A gasp escaped your throat, not realizing it was this close now, the last set were just centimeters from the circle. You clutched the back of Sam’s coat, fearing that you would somehow stumble backward. “Come on, Dean.”

Whatever the other Winchester was trying to do on his end; it sure wasn’t working. You whipped your head toward the vent when you began to feel a sudden gust of wind begin to pick up around the room, Whatever the other Winchester was trying to do on his end; it sure wasn’t working. You whipped your head toward the vent when you began to feel a sudden gust of wind begin to pick up around the room, making everything from papers and other sort of light objects begin to fly across the room. Out of pure fear, you couldn’t help yourself but look down, but you could tell that was a bad idea. You watched as the line of dust slowly began to wither away, getting thinner and thinner…until there was a break. And you weren’t going to waste anytime to give these pups a chance to see what they were made of. “Circle’s broken!” You screamed, “Come on!”

The three of you rushed toward the doors, nearly ripping them off the hinges before bolting down the the hall and toward the one that all of you spotted first. Evan rushed inside, you following afterwards before Sam slammed the laundry room door shut. The both of you pressed your bodies toward the door, trying your hardest to keep yourself balanced as the pounding started again, you dug your nails into the wood and prayed that whatever Dean was doing, he would hurry before all of you died a bloody death.

You could feel yourself slowly slipping toward the floor, Sam was just a few inches from behind you, the both of you weren’t strong enough to keep the hounds of hell from getting what they wanted. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes, waiting for the sudden pressure of the door to crush you forward and hear the sounds of Evan’s bloody screams as he got ripped apart, like this demon had wanted. But as you were nearly a foot from touching the floor, your knees just about to buckle from the pressure—it all suddenly stopped. The barking, the shaking. Whatever Dean had done, it seemed to have worked.

Finally, you let your hands rest in your lap as you could feel your body sink toward the floor. A breath of relief escaped your lips as you ran your fingers through your hair, not realizing that you were sweating from the nerve wracking moments that just happened. But when the reality began to sit in, you didn’t know at what just happened was a good thing. Or if you had pissed off Hell even more from your ballsy move of putting your heroic behavior of where it didn’t belong.

\+ + +

“Something’s wrong, Sam.” You stood beside the open trunk of the Impala, watching as the youngest brother packed up the rest of the bags after the short stay in the motel the three of you had been crashing at since arriving. You knew from the strange looks the guy behind the counter was giving each of you, it was better to tap into the paranoia than listen toward the up and coming siren sounds. But that seemed to have been the last thing you’ve been tossing around in your mind; Dean’s distance from the rest of you had gotten you worried that something strange happened during the confrontation with the demon. Whatever it was, Dean wasn’t cracking down and telling either one of you. It only made you want to know.

Sam got himself up back into a standing position after shoving the rest of the bags further back into the trunk, knowing you still needed to fetch your things. He let out a sigh, not exactly what it was either that could have been bothering his brother. “Look, Y/N, these past days haven’t been exactly easy on all of us.” Sam started, trying to be the wisest one of all, but you knew he was just as curious as you were. “We’ll tackle the problem tomorrow. Just grab your stuff before Dean starts yelling at the both of us for wasting time.”

You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, knowing well enough the man was right. You turned yourself on your heels and headed back toward your motel room where your bags were, a few clothes still needing to be packed up before all of you could hit the road. As you reached the doorknob, you turned your head slightly when you saw something coming out from the corner of your eye, and to your surprise, it was Dean. He was staring a few feet from his own motel room, you and him stared at one another for a few seconds, you waited for him to say something snarky or command you to move faster. But with the other times you and him shared a moment like this tonight after he came back, all he did was remain silent and walk away.

You shoved open the motel door, letting a quiet scoff roll out from your throat as you went toward the bed to pack up the handful of clothes that needed your attention. Just as you took a step forward toward the bed, you heard something crunch underneath the bottom of your shoe, which was something different from the previous times you went in and out of your room during the past hour. Lifting up your shoe to see what on the carpet, your eyebrows furrowed together when you saw something brown and somewhat sticky begin to stain the floor. When you bent down to touch it, you became even more confused, coming to realize it was dirt. You tilted your head up just the slightest, but to your surprise, there seemed to have been a trail of it, leading toward underneath the motel bed.

Part of you was screaming to not reach out a hand to see what it was, but the other kept pulling out, slowly lifting up the sham and peeked underneath the bed, wondering what was going on

“What the hell?” You muttered to yourself, not exactly sure what you were staring at. Your fingers inched closer toward the object, but flinched back slightly when you felt something cold brush against your skin, not expecting for something like that. But you made yourself reach for it again and pull it out to see what it was, you grabbed it and pulled your hand back so the object was now being seen in the bedroom florescent lights.

You held a small, rectangular container that seemed dirty. As you brushed away some of the dirt to see what it was, you could feel your breathing becoming a bit heavier. You couldn’t help yourself but open the lid; the things that were inside, they were all the same ones that you seen before—a clear bottle of black dirt, a bone that was small enough to realize it was from a black cat. You reached down and plucked out a dried flower, but with the yellow color still in the petals, you recognized it as a yarrow, the ones that your mother had lying around the house for years.

As you shuffled around the belongings, you stumbled upon a piece of paper that was buried in the bottom. You quickly plucked it out to see that it was a picture from the glossy feel underneath the back, but there was something written in neat cursive;

Your heart suddenly began to ram itself rapidly inside your chest, threatening to burst through when you flipped over the photograph to see the subject; You could point out that familiar and hideous interior of the bar, the same one that you had been to earlier

And the two familiar, younger looking faces staring at you. But the one on the left was almost unrecognizable after what happened. It looked like someone took a sharp object and sketched out your father’s face in the photograph, marking it with a big X. You could see the woman on the right was your mother, with her familiar drunk goofy grin, a special one that she had kept years later, when she allowed herself to get loose during holiday parties with old friends.

Your eyes slowly drifted toward the three words that were written into the bottom of the picture, like a small child had done it. With her small fingers wrapped around the marker, scribbled out the words and traced them over and over again until it was almost unreadable. But you knew exactly what it said.

MOMMY KILLED DADDY.

\+ + +

The car ride was nothing more than silence for the past few hours as all of you passed through the back roads; you were peacefully sleeping in the back, the brothers sat up front, quiet themselves for the most part. As Dean glanced over his shoulder to take a peek at you, it was safe to say that you weren’t going to be waking up anytime soon. He let out a sigh and focused his attention on the road, feeling the guilt of his previous actions. He shouldn’t have been treating you different. But he couldn’t tell himself the accusations that floated around his mind about what Ella had done were false. The demon had told him the truth about his father, it only seemed fair enough to believe she was right about the other part.

It seemed that the people who’d once wanted this demon gone from this world, had become vulnerable, crawling toward the soulless monster to get what they wanted. One longed to have their child back, the other craved for one. Dean could feel his grip on the steering wheel tighten when he could feel conflicting emotions begin to set in his mind again.

“Demons lie all the time, right?” Sam was the first one to speak up, but making sure to keep his tone no louder than a whisper, fearing that you would wake up and hear the accusations being thrown around. Sam may have gotten the truth about their father, but still had no idea about the other. “Maybe she was lying.”

"Come on. Is that really what you think?” Dean questioned his brother, glancing away from the road to stare at his brother. He shook his head, turning his attention back on the road when he felt himself becoming angry, betrayed. “How could he do it?”

“He did it for you.” Sam muttered.

“Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that?” Dean hissed underneath his breath. “You know, the thought of him, wherever he is right now…” In hell, wasn’t too hard to think, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. “I mean, he spent their whole life chasing bar yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He should have gone out fighting.” Sam remained silent, not sure what to say, everything bitter sweet. “That was supposed to be his legacy, you know? Not bargaining with the damn thing. Not this.”

“How many people do you think Dad saved total?” Sam asked his brother.

“That’s not the point, Sam.”

"Evan Hudson is safe because what Dad taught us.” Sam pointed out, knowing that it was better to focus on the positive. It was needed to be said that the brothers were the only thing that mattered to the man, that they were dying for. “That’s his legacy, Dean. Now, we’re still here, Man, so we got to keep going. For them.” But his brother kept silent, even though he knew the other man was right, he didn’t want to say it. As Sam began to think, a thought suddenly crossed his mind. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

"When you were trapping that demon, you weren’t…I mean, it was all a trick, right?” Sam asked, glancing over at his brother again.

Dean couldn’t get himself to look at his brother straight in the eye, the truth weighed on the tips of his tongue, but he couldn’t get himself to say it. All he could do was reach out his hand and crank up the music, hoping that would be enough to ease all the different emotions and thoughts that crammed themselves into his mind. The people that were supposed to protect them, show them that fighting the demon that brought nothing but pain and suffering toward everyone they knew, passed up an opportunity they couldn’t resist. John sold his soul to bring back his oldest son from the dead. Ella bargained her and her husband’s to have a child—You.

A part of Dean said it was wrong to call you a monster, but it seemed only right when he thought about it. Because if he was taught anything from growing up or tonight, it was that good came out when you make a deal with the devil.


	9. Croatoan.

Your fingers wrapped around the sheets of the motel bed; your body was covered in a thin sweat as it tried to toss and turn, wanting to get yourself away from the taunting nightmares that wouldn’t leave your mind since you found it. But as you tried to move a single inch, you couldn’t. Something felt like it was pinning you in place, you couldn’t even open your eyelids or wiggle your fingers. You opened your mouth slightly, hoping that if something loud enough came out, maybe you could get someone’s attention and stir you away. But all that came out was a pitiful whimper that even you couldn’t understand.

It felt like forever being stuck in that position you had hoped that something would free you from this darkness that seemed never ending. You kept trying to move your body around, and after what felt like an eternity of feeling frozen, you ripped open your eyelids open when you felt someone place their hand on your shoulder and shake your body ever so slightly. You find yourself not moving, but making note of the full throb in your neck from sleeping on your back.

Your eyes trail down from the ceiling after a few moments of silence, it’s obvious to see that there were two bodies in front of you; one was parked at the edge of the bed and the other busied himself by packing up what you managed to put out before your unexpected slumber, messily shoving it back. You can see from the crack in the curtains that darkness is approaching, it had only been half of a day since all you arrived in town, and by their actions, it was time to leave again.

Before you could comment on the matter, your attention is turned toward the oldest Winchester, who’s been nothing but strange toward you ever since that crossroad demon. Well, everyone’s been on edge since the bitter truth of what happened to John was finally in the air. You kept your secrets to yourself. Because you still had questions—and your way of finding out might have been frowned upon if you didn’t play it the right way.

Your attention is finally set on the oldest brother when he speaks up first. “Do you guys plan this stuff out or what?” He remarks underneath his breath, obviously not happy himself at what’s been happening. You furrow your eyebrows, wondering what he was talking about. But all he does is just avert his gaze somewhere else so he’s not staring at you, like the past few days. You ignore it.

You managed to get yourself to sit up in bed and think proper thoughts, all though one of them that seems to linger on is going back to bed. “What’s going on?” You manage to say before letting out a long, obnoxiously loud yawn. “Are the cops coming or something? I thought we were in the clear for now.”

“We are.” Dean states. By the tone of his voice, it seems that he was a little bit offended that you had thought either one of them became sloppy enough to let that happen. He turns his attention toward his brother, who is now standing with your bags packed up and ready to go. “Sam, our psychic boy wonder, had another vision.”

\+ + +

You kept your concentration on the cell phone that laid in Sam’s grasp, still barely having an idea of what was going on, but you were awake enough from the coffee that you forced yourself to chug while you slipped on your shoes, all before exiting the motel after nearly being harassed for being so slow. You sat in the backseat of the Impala with your elbows resting on the front seat.

Between the uneasy look that seemed to have been kept across the youngest Winchester’s face, you knew that his vision had been serious—his brother killing an innocent man, who seemed to have been possessed by something, probably a demon—well, Sam wasn’t sure. But all of you knew that Dean wasn’t the type of guy that would have gone toward such a final destination. All though, you had to admit to yourself that the man had seemed a bit off, more toward the edge these past few months, ever since coming back from the dead. You kept your opinion to yourself, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation.

“There are only two towns in the U.S. named Rivergrove.” Sam said, giving the two of you the destination of the unexpected road trip.

“How come you’re so sure it’s the one in Oregon?” Dean asks, wanting to be right about this.

“There was a picture.” Sam continued on a bit. “Crater lake.”

“Okay,” You spoke up, wanting to know more about his vision, “What else?”

“I saw a dark room, some people,” Sam explained what he could remembered to you and his brother. But you could hear his voice drop slightly when he told the last detail, knowing the gruesome outcome that happened from the man sitting in the driver’s seat, “and a guy tied a chair.”

“And I ventilated him?” Dean questioned, looking away from the road for a second.

“Yeah.” Sam answered. “You thought there was something inside him.”

“A demon? Was he possessed?” Dean kept throwing questions at the man, wanting to get to the bottom of this, knowing that the man’s visions always seemed to have true, one way or another, someone ended up dying. Sam mumbled something about not knowing. “All your weird visions are always tied to the yellow-eyed demon. Was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise him?”

“No. Nothing.” Sam said. You could see the guilt come across his face from the lack of details he could give. “You just plugged him. That’s it.”

“Well, I’m sure I had a good reason.” Dean said, trying to calm everyone’s racing mind.

“I sure hope you.” You muttered underneath your breath. But when you look up from the cell phone you’ve been concentrating on, you meet Dean’s eyes, an angered look is sketched across his face from your unexpected comment. It seemed that he heard you, after all.

“What does that mean?” Dean asks, you remain silent, knowing you don’t have the answer he wants to hear. Sam’s mocking silence doesn’t help the mood or give faith that he was on his brother’s side. “I’m not gonna waste an innocent man.” You and Sam look at the older man, but quickly find something else to stare at. “I wouldn’t.”

“We never said you would.” You argue, finally making yourself look at the man straight in the eye. Dean rolls his eyes, concentrating his attention on the road, and suddenly, both of you are acting like little children about this situation after you see his lips pout out slightly and his tone of voice when he speaks only one word toward you.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Look,” Sam speaks up again, trying to get this topic back toward a serious one, obviously not finding either one of your behavior even the slightest bit amusing. “We don’t know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair is a part of it.”

“So,” You said, “let’s find him and see what’s what. Most logical plan we have.”

“Fine.” Dean repeats himself, obviously annoyed with you and his brother from how the both of you were acting before. The less conversation that goes on from now until Oregon was the best solution for him, but you weren’t going to let the man have the last word if it were up to you. Maybe it was stress that been piling up the past few days that was making the both of you act so immature toward one another, no matter how serious the topic at hand was.

“Fine.” You snap back at him, throwing yourself toward the seat and crossing your arms over your chest and focus your attention on the passing scenery that soon only becomes darkness from the lack of any street lights around. Only another handful of hours before all of you make your destination.

\+ + +

Morning arrived when all of you drove into town; you took around the place to see that it was a fairly normal looking quiet, secluded area from the small businesses that were spread around the place and lush green arches that seemed to have meshed together. There were a handful of people wandering around either roaming around the sidewalks or working on special projects.

You weren’t paying much attention toward anyone in particular as you glanced around the area a bit more, Dean turned off the engine after pulling up at a spot near the sidewalk. But your head turned toward the left side when you saw that Sam had focused his attention on someone in particular, his index finger reached out and pointed out a man that was sitting outside underneath a small building. He seemed friendly enough, smiling and saying hello to strangers as he worked on a fishing pole. But it seemed that he was soon going to be more than just another towns goer.

“He was there.” Sam said, making his brother turn to see who the man was talking about.

Neither one of you stalled in getting yourselves out of the car and heading across the street, forcing polite smiles when you made eye contact with townspeople. You stepped next toward the youngest brother when the three of you were now standing right across from the stranger. A finger played around with the badge that you had shoved inside your back pocket. How do you find someone that you don’t know their name for? Play a cop and start asking around, of course.

“Morning.” The man greeted, continuing to tinker around with his rod. “Can I help you?” 

“Yeah.” Dean said, reaching a hand inside his jacket pocket for the fake badge, you and Sam followed behind. As the three of you presented the badges that almost looked too good to be real, you forced yourself not to react from the horrible names the oldest Winchester had chose. “Billy Gibbons,” Was the one that Dean introduced himself as, “Frank Beard,” Sam forced a smile, trying his hardest not to toss his brother a dirty glare. “And Rhonda Francis. US Marshals.”

“What’s this about?” The man asks, putting his rod down toward the table.

“We’re just looking for someone.” You answer in a calm town, putting your badge away.

“A young man, early twenties.” Sam stepped into the conversation, giving off the description that he could remember from his vision. His index finger went up toward his forehead as he went down, explaining a very good detail that could hopefully track down the other stranger. “He’d have a thin scar right below his hairline.”

The man’s face seemed to have dropped when he realized who it was, “What did he do?”

“We’re actually looking for someone else,” Sam lied, “But we think this young man can help us.”

“He’s not in any of trouble or anything.” Dean said, seeming to notice the cautious look on the man’s face. But your lips demanded to twitch into a frown when you heard him decide to joke around, flashing a small smile from his comment that would ease the man. “Not yet.” But he remained silent, eyeing the oldest brother. Dean dropped his gaze toward the man’s forearm, seeming to find something that could have been more of personal touch the brothers knew about. “I think maybe you know who he is, Master Sergeant.” You could see the slightest smile begin to stretch across the man from his old title. “My dad was in the corps. He was a corporal.”

“What company?” The man curiously asked.

“Echo-2-1.” Dean said.

“So,” Sam spoke up again, deciding to the conversation back toward where it needed to be, knowing there wasn’t much time all of you could waste. “Can you help us?”

The man kept himself quiet for a few moments, as if he was debating with himself if he wanted to help or not. You could feel yourself beginning to breathe a bit easier when he spoke up again, with a name. “Duane Tanner’s got a scar like that. But I know him.” The man said, quickly making it known that the one you really were tracking down was just another harmless soul. No reason why someone would shoot him. “Good kid. Keeps his nose clean.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does.” You said, flashing the man a sincere smile, hoping that you could find out where the man was hiding out at. “Do you know where he lives?”

“With his family,” The man said, gesturing the right side of the town, “up in Aspen Way.”

The three of you thanked the man before heading off toward the direction that the man had gestured toward, knowing it couldn’t have been a long distance. As Sam stepped on the sidewalk, it seemed that he was too close toward the telephone pole, accidentally brushing his shoulder against it, and before he let it slip from his mind, he looked over his shoulder, but his attention was locked on the word that was carved into the wood.

You turned your head toward the taller one when he called out toward you and his brother, who had stopped in your tracks. The two of you took a few steps forward to see what Sam was now pointing at. You squinted slightly, but when you read it, you locked eyes with Sam when the both of you realized what it was.

“‘Croatoan’?” Dean read the word out loud, not sure what it was himself.

“Yeah.” Sam said with a serious tone, but his brother still wasn’t getting it. “Roanoke. Lost Colony. Ring a bell?”

As you watch Dean’s eyes move around slightly, as he was trying to wrack his brain for any sort of information he knew on the topic, your eyes rolled themselves up in annoyance. “Dean, did you pay any attention to history class?” You couldn’t help yourself but question, giving him a curious look. “Did that tiny little brain of yours remember anything?”

“Yeah.” Dean answered, “The shot heard around the world. How bills become laws.”

“Oh my, God.” You muttered underneath your breath, shaking your head.

“That’s not school.” Sam interjects, obviously not amused at his brother’s logic of education that was nowhere near toward the one you or him were discussing. “That’s ‘Schoolhouse Rock.'”

"Whatever.” Dean says, brushing it off with a nonchalant shrug.

“Listen up,” You said, giving the man the brief history lesson that he didn’t seem to remember much on. “Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America—late 1500s.” And just like that, the look of eureka began to stretch across the man’s face from the familiar knowledge.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I do remember that.” Dean finally says, the wheels in his head turning as he begins to finish what you were about to explain more toward him. “The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree.” You nodded your head toward the telephone pole as Sam drew out his arm, pointing at the word again. “'Croatoan.’”

“Yeah,” Sam said, adding more information that didn’t seem to make this town look all that cute and innocent anymore, “And there were theories—indian raid, disease—but nobody knows what really happened. They were all just gone, wiped out overnight.”

“You don’t think that’s what is going on here.” You say, forcing out a quiet chuckle.

“Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn’t good.” Sam mutters, knowing the outcome of his visions never ended well. From the last one that he had, it almost had you tasting concrete after you could have fallen toward your death. His eyes lingered back toward the word again. “But what do you think could do that?”

You and Sam couldn’t be thinking of a proper answer, or maybe it was because the both of you were too scared to say what really could have been the root of what could be possibly going on. Your eyes lingered toward the oldest Winchester, suddenly hoping he had some sort of answer that could stir away from the one that you had burning inside your mind, but the sigh that escaped his mouth didn’t help your hopes. “Well, I mean, like I said,” Dean mumbled, “All your weird visions are always tied to the yellow-eyed demon somehow, so…”

“We should get help.” You say, knowing that this could be bigger than the three of you could handle. You would need someone with more experience, or perhaps just an older figure that could give you the faith you were beginning to long for. “Bobby. Ellen, maybe.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, shoving his hand inside his pocket to pull out his cell phone. You seem a little taken back from the lack of anger he seems not to show from the mention of Ellen, but with what could have been at stake, it wasn’t the time to hold bad blood over one another’s head. “That’s a good idea.” As he began to work on contacting someone, you and Sam followed behind, but you could tell something was wrong when you turned your head to see that he was now staring at the phone with his eyebrows scrunched together. “I don’t have a signal.”

Shoving your hand inside your pocket, you pull out your own cell phone to see if you get one, trying to solve the panic that seems to set inside your mind. But to your dismay, there is no bars sitting at the top left of your cell phone screen. “I don’t either.” Sam says, seeming surprised himself. You look up to see the brothers are waiting for to you say yes, you shake your head no.

Dean scans the area to see what could have been causing the problem, but his attention sets on a pay phone that is just down the sidewalk, and with no mention of his plan, he sets off. You look over just in time to see that the man is almost a foot away from you and his brother. You nod your head toward Sam, the both of you quickly trail behind, wondering what the man had in mind. Dean grabbed the black phone and pressed it toward his ear, but the only noise he was hearing was the disconnection sound someone would hear if there was no line. He tried pressing down on the switch hook a few times to see if that could refresh it, but after three times, the noise would only cut out for a second before returning to ring in his ears. 

“The line’s dead.” Dean declared, slamming the phone back on the hook. As he turned around to face you and his brother, the comment that rolled out of his mouth wasn’t making you feel welcome. Suddenly you were itching to get the hell out of here before it was too late. “I’ll tell you one thing—if I was gonna massacre a town, that’d be my first step.”

\+ + + 

When was the last time you shot off a gun? You were drawing blanks from the thought as you shifted your shirt down, feeling the cold metal press down on your lower back side. This wasn’t exactly your weapon of choice for a fight or a favorite weapon to carry around, preferring a knife—quiet, easy to use on any size of the target. But you knew the argument that began stirring around in your head died at the tip of your tongue when you saw a loaded one shoved in your chest, with a quick command to keep it sealed and out of sight, unless an emergency occurred otherwise. You began to wonder if the previous events in town was the reason for these sudden safety precautions they were throwing around.  
The events just in the last few hours alone could make a hunter subtly shake in their boots. Being in a town with no reception to call for backup seemed to be a warning sign that only could only mean trouble would be following soon after. Perhaps it was that vision you’ve thought about ever since Sam told you and his brother You kept imagining Dean’s finger on the trigger, just shooting a man that you didn’t know what he did to deserve such a harsh punishment made you feel uneasy. You kept telling yourself that Dean wasn’t the type of person to just kill for no rhyme or reason, that wasn’t how he was raised. But their father didn’t exactly do what he preached—it seemed none of your parents did.

A whistling train in the distance caused you to turn your head out of curiosity, wondering where it was coming from in the midst of green grass and trees that seemed to have gone on for miles. You caught sight of another house in the bushes as you took your first step on the porch and made your way up, following behind the brothers until you were standing at Sam’s side. His good hand reached up and knocked a few times on the door to see if there was anyone home.

There was only a few seconds of waiting before the front door opened up to reveal a young man. He stood in the doorway with a hand resting on the tinted glass, he gave the three of you a curious glance before starting off the conversation with a “Yeah” in a friendly enough tone.

“Hi,” Dean spoke up next, flashing the fake badge he’d dug out before and flashed it at the younger man standing in front of him, “Looking for Duane Tanner. He lives here, right?”

“He’s my brother.” The boy said. You asked him if you speak to the other man, but you knew all of you hit a wall when the bad news was delivered. “He’s not here right now.”

“Do you know where he is?” You continued to ask questions that you’d hope would bring you answers, the ones you wanted.

“Yeah,” He said. “he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam suddenly asked.

“Yeah,” The boy repeated, nodding his head. “They’re inside.”

“Jake, who is it?”

You leaned over just the slightest to see an older man that was just a bit shorter than his son approach the doorway, his facial expressions were written in confusion from what was going on. You gave the man a polite smile, hoping he had some useful answers all of you could somehow use at tracking this man down. “Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir.” Dean greeted when the door opened a crack more to reveal the older man. “We’re looking for your son Duane.”

“He’s not in trouble, is he?” Mr. Tanner asked, his facial expressions dropped in concern.

“No. We just need to ask him a couple routine questions.” Dean explained, flashing the two men a smile. “That’s all.”

“When is he due back from his trip?” Sam curiously asked, hoping that it was soon.

Mr. Tanner sucked on his teeth, pretending to think about the answer, “I’m not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows.” You said.

“No. I don’t know.” Mr. Tanner said, shaking his head slightly, suddenly playing dumb as he peeked inside the empty house. Your eyebrows furrowed the slightest. “She’s not here right now.”

“Your son said she was.”

“Did I?”

“She’s getting groceries.” Mr. Tanner stepped in, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, stopping the three of you asking any more suspicious questions. “So, when Duane gets back, there’s a number where he can get ahold of you?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said, shaking his head slightly as another smile, a fake one this time, began to grow. “We’ll just check in with you later.”

You flashed another polite smile at the Tanners when you saw a hand reach up and wrap around the door handle, knowing that this was their subtle cue that the conversation has officially been announced as over. You turned your body around and began to walk down the porch steps, following behind the brothers with the slamming of the front door. You heard the faint click of the lock seconds later. 

As you stood on the last step and the brothers standing on the grass, that’s when you voice your concerns. “That was kind of creepy, right?” You asked, beginning to wonder if you were the only one that was picking up the strange feeling. You had seen fake families, your entire neighborhood was crawling with them growing up, but the Tanners seem to have been pushing the act to the extreme. “A little too Stepford?”

“Big-time.” Sam agreed, glancing around the property to see that the coast was clear from any possible witnesses from what was about to happen next. “You guys take the right side of the house and I’ll take the left?”

The three of you scanned the area again to see if there was anyone coming, and when you saw the place was completely empty besides the animals that chirped away in the distance, you stepped off the porch and followed behind Dean. Seeing Sam safely disappear from sight, you crossed the porch and started walking down a small hill. A sudden slamming of a door from inside the house caused you and the other brother to crouch down when passing a window, suddenly fearing that if neither one of you were careful enough, you get caught from the family lingering around the house.

Thankfully the both of you were able to peek at a pair of closed french doors that were lacking any curtains. You pressed your nose just the slightest against the glass, wondering what was going on, but you could feel your face drop in shock at what was happening right across in the kitchen. It seemed that Mrs. Tanner was home after all; but from her current state, she wasn’t much for talking, even tied up at the moment.

The poor woman was bound and gagged toward a dining room chair, fear lingering in her eyes, while her husband and son came back toward her. It seemed that this is what they were looking forward to. With a smile that grew across Mr. Tanner’s lips as he placed his hands on his wife’s shoulder, you knew things were only going to get worse. A kitchen knife caught your attention when you saw it being lifted up into the air from the older man’s free hand, the length could be similar toward the one Michael Myers used to butcher his victims in all those horrible Halloween sequels you’d watched. All though, his intentions weren’t to harm his wife, but his son that stood right across from him.

Jake pulled on his sweatshirt sleeve all the way up toward the elbow right before making a tight fist. Your eyebrows furrowed at the bizarre behavior that turned a situation into one you or Dean were least expecting; his father leaned over the knife until it was inches from the skin on his forearm. Jake didn’t even flinch in pain when the blade began to tear apart a wound that was deep enough for blood to begin dripping down…all the way toward the one his mother had on her arm. A sudden queasy feeling began to grow in your stomach when you realized his intention was for his blood to mix in with her own. And neither one of you were going to wait and see what the result of what it was for.

Your fingers quickly reached out and wrapped around the cold handle of the gun, pulling it out before Dean could comment about you staying behind. Sam was nowhere in sight, and there was no way in hell you were going let the other brother just run in there waving around a gun without backup. You inspected your weapon quickly as you heard the sound of Dean’s own being cocked back. The both of you ready to shoot if necessary, and you had a feeling someone wasn’t going to get out of this fight alive.

“Remember—shoot first, ask questions later. And on the count of three.” Dean instructed in a quiet and rushed out tone. He stood in front of the doors while you kept yourself hidden and pressed against the wall of the outside house. You nodded your head, knowing you weren’t careless enough to just go in there, guns ablazing to make a point. Dean wasted no time in getting yourselves right in there—his foot went swinging up and pushed the doors right open with a loud bang.

Your hands wrapped tightly around the heavy metal as you followed behind the oldest brother, you went past a small corner that looked like a wall before you stormed right into the mess. “Put it down!” Dean shouted, pointing the gun straight at the older man while you had the barrel of the gun shifted on Jake, who looked nothing more like a deer caught in headlights. But when you saw the father suddenly start charging at the both of you, the knife being wielded up in the air like a psycho getting ready to stab someone, his one mistake was bringing a knife to a gunfight.

Three shots were fired off from Dean’s weapon and landed right in Mr. Tanner’s chest making his body fall toward the ground with a loud thud. But your attention quickly shifted upwards from the dead body when you saw his son make for a quick escape, running directly toward the closed window, your gun followed his every move—even after he threw himself out the closed window.

You rushed toward the broken glass that crunched underneath your shoes, pointing your gun toward the opening, your finger pressed itself ever so slightly against the trigger as if you were waiting for the right moment to shoot Jake. You had every opportunity to take him down, even from the moment he was on the grass trying to recuperate from the fall, you didn’t even try to wound him in the leg to slow him down as he tried to make an escape.

You could feel a tickling sensation of someone’s breath touching the skin of your neck, you knew from not even turning your gaze from outside to know that Dean was hovering over you. There was nothing but a stone cold glare was waiting to be seen when you got the courage to face the consequences of your actions. You dropped your gun toward your side when you saw Jake running away from sight. Everything was telling you to shoot the monster, he’d shown what he was capable of, but something inside of you kept you from pulling the trigger and end that boy’s life when you had the chance.

\+ + + 

The tally so far today wasn’t good; one dead body in the trunk, a psycho on the loose and the victim up in the front seat. It wasn’t exactly a happy thought when you realize this all happened in the same family—and the memory their oldest son was supposed to die in the hands of the man sitting in the driver’s seat wasn’t comforting, either. But all of your thoughts soon were shoved in the back of your mind when you saw the only doctor’s office in town come into view after the Impala made a sharp turn around a corner. You pushed open the backseat door and got yourself out of the car while Sam helped the woman out safely. Dean, on the other hand, still had to get the dead body out of the trunk.

You weren’t going to even think about getting involved with that sort of mess, heading up toward Mrs. Tanner and helped her along, keeping her close when you felt her body shaking underneath your grip. Sam swung open the door and allowed the both of you to head inside toward an empty building that was free from any other patients. Relief flooded through you from being able to avoid the questions and lingering stares. “Hello?” Sam called out, his voice echoing through the empty rooms. “Hello? We need a doctor here.”

A young, blonde nurse came rushing out from a room that was across the room when she heard the commotion. When she caught sight of the woman, her face scrunched up with worry as she headed over toward the three of you, but stopping at the reception desk. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” She questioned.

“She’s been attacked.” You tried to briefly explain, knowing time wasn’t to be wasted.

“Dr. Lee?”

The doctor came rushing out from the opened doorway when she heard her name being called, wondering what the urgency was all about. But you could see her face quickly sketch itself into concern when she caught sight of Mrs. Tanner, who had been barely holding it together. When you heard the woman let out a pitiful whimper, you quietly whispered that everything was okay.

“Bring her in.” Dr. Lee instructed, breaking herself from her thoughts. She nodded her head and waved a hand for the rest of you to get the woman settled before taking a look at her injuries.

Mrs. Tanner got herself herself as comfortable as she could on the exam table while the nurse took off the bloody bandages you’d found in the scarce first aid kit back at the home. Dr. Lee and the other brother soon came back into the room when the dead body was propped back in the morgue, waiting for examination that could be pushed off until later. The doctor busied herself with cleaning up the dried blood and putting on fresh gauze on the arm, all while refraining herself from asking the questions that had been burning in the back of her mind. While the woman worked, the wife had told her side of the story and what happened toward the rest of you.

“Wait, you said Jake helped him?” Dr. Lee questioned, her face scrunched up in confusion, suddenly not sure how her idea of the son that seemed to not have one rotten bone in his body, could have been capable of such a heinous crime. “Your son Jake?”

“They beat me.” Mrs. Tanner admitted in a low, shaky tone. She took her gaze away from the floor and made herself look directly at the woman standing in front of her before she continued telling the story. “Tied me up.”

“I don’t believe it.” The nurse, who had been mostly quiet this entire time and stood in the corner with her hands in her pocket, spoke up and put her opinion in where it didn’t belong. You furrowed your eyebrows in anger and opened your mouth to say something about her being rude, but your lips tightened themselves again when you saw the doctor step in and scold the younger woman.

“Pam.” Dr. Lee said. She held up one of her hands that still had the latex gloves and shook her head, giving the woman a stern glare to keep her from saying anything else that could upset the woman sitting in front of her. When the nurse kept quiet, she shifted her attention toward Mrs. Tanner, hoping to shed some light on the reason why for this crime nobody seem to have saw coming. “Beverly, do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?”

“No, of course not. I don’t know why.” Mrs. Tanner choked out, her face scrunching up when she could feel the sudden rush of anxiety hit her all over again. “One minute, they were my husband and my son, and the next, they had the devil in them.” 

You didn’t seem to realize that you were investing most of your attention toward the conversation that was in front of you when you heard someone whisper something from behind you. It took the second time, closer toward your head, that made your hand shift toward your ear when a strange feeling echoed. You turned your head slightly to see that Dean was hovering over you again, nodding his head toward the empty hall.

“We’ve got to talk.” He mumbled, and knowing from his seriousness lined in his facial expressions, there was something important that he’d needed to get off his chest toward the both of you.

Following behind the brothers into the empty reception area, you crossed your arms over your chest and waited to hear what Dean needed to discuss. “Those guys were whacked out of their gourds.” Dean said, starting off the conversation with fact all of you seemed to know that was fairly true. But from what you had been hearing about these men, it wasn’t their usual habit, something had made them turn psychotic and craving for homicidal behavior.

“What do you think demon possession?” You asked, wondering if that could explain their sudden erratic behavior that seemed to have popped up today.

“If it is a possession, there could be more. And God knows how many. It could be like a freaking shriner convention.” Dean said, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a sigh from the thought of having to deal with multiple demons. One was a pain in the ass, and you really didn’t want to deal with anymore soulless monsters, since you were still shaking off the last hunt. “Of course, that’s one way to wipe out a town—you take it from the inside.”

“We didn’t see any of the demon smoke with Tanner or any of the usual signs.” Sam pointed out, knowing well enough that there wasn’t enough evidence to be pointing in that kind of direction.

“Something turned him into a monster.” Dean muttered an unwanted comment as he passes by his brother, but you knew the next part was delivered toward you when his head twisted around so he was looking at you from over his shoulder. “You know, if Y/N would who’ve taken out the other one, there would be one less to worry about.”

“I’m sorry. I hesitated.” You snapped at him, using the same kind of strict tone he used on you, knowing it would only make him annoyed. “It was a kid. I didn't—”

“No, it was an ‘it.’” Dean cut you off, making you clench your jaw in anger, knowing that he wasn’t exactly being far when it came toward your decisions you made. “It’s not the best time for a bleeding heart, Y/N.”

Before you could open your mouth to lash out at the Winchester for treating you with such disrespect, your attention was ripped toward the doctor when you heard her heels clicking against the floor as she approached closer. “How’s the patient?” You asked, turning the conversation into something more important that needed all of your attention at the moment.

“Terrible. What the hell happened out there?” She immediately began question the three of you. All you could was shrug your shoulders, not even sure yourself what a proper answer could be when neither one of you could even explain it yourselves, let alone someone in the medical field that’s seen all kinds of crazy, but not your kind. “Yeah? Well you just killed my next-door neighbor.”

“We didn’t have a choice.” Dean spoke up, trying not to defend his actions that needed to be taken to keep the three of you safe.

“Maybe so.” Dr. Lee muttered, looking at the man ever so suspiciously. “But we need the county sheriff. I need the coroner.”

“The phones are down.”

“I know. I tried.” She admitted, letting out a breath as she placed her hands on her hips before she continued talking. “Tell me you’ve got a police radio in the car.”

“Yeah, we do,” Sam said, bringing up the woman’s hopes that it was possible to contact someone outside of town, but he followed up with the bad news that made her face drop in aggravation. “But it crapped out just like everything else.”

Dr. Lee couldn’t help herself but let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t understand what is happening.”

“How far is the next town?”

“It’s about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“Alright. Y/N and I are gonna go down there and see if we can find some help.” Dean announced, you could feel your lips threat to twitch into a scowl at the thought of being stuck with him again. But you knew there was no way of getting out of it when he slapped a hand against his brother’s shoulder. “My other partner will stick around and keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“…We’ll get back to you on that.”

\+ + +

Fifteen minutes of driving around the backroads of the town, everything seemed to have been normal; you sat in the passenger side of the car, watching the endless display of trees pass you by. But as the car was beginning to slow down in speed, you broke your gaze away from the window to see what was so important that needed for the both of you stop in the middle of the empty road. All though, when you saw an abandoned silver car just parked in front of you, that could have been considered a reason why. You got out of the car once you heard the sound of the engine shut off and the squeakiness of the driver’s side door being opened.

You began to wander closer toward the car out of curiosity while Dean lingered behind a few moments, taking a close inspection to see if there was anybody around. But when the woods and road seemed to have been empty of any other soul beside the two of you, he slammed the driver’s side door and followed behind, making sure to bring backup with a gun lingering at his side as he approached closer. But the sight you and the Winchester stumbled upon was one you were least expecting. It was like a murder scene without any of the dead bodies.

Blood seemed to have been soaked and splattered on every surface you could see; in the fabric of the seats, a large amount of it was splashed against the back seat and front windows. As you stepped toward the driver’s side, your shoes stepped on the broken glass, someone must have been urgent to get personal with whoever sat in the car, blood even stained the steering wheel with shards of glass even sitting in the passenger’s side, probably the debris from breaking the window. When you followed a trail of blood that seemed to have trickled down the outside car door, you followed it until you saw a small pool of it staining the pavement, but a hunting knife is what really caught your attention in all of the mess.

You bent down and picked up the knife by the wooden handle, making sure not to touch any of the blood for safety reasons. You let the blade dangle in the air just the slightest, letting it catch Dean’s attention. “Is it me, or do you feel like we just stepped straight into a Stephen King novel?”

Dean tilted his head toward the side just the slightest and shook his head, knowing your comment was unnecessary, but there was truth in the words. Something strange was happening around this town, and neither one of you were willing to stick around to see what was going to happen next. The both of you piled back into the car and took off, suddenly wanting to be far away from this place as possible. The both of you drove for another few minutes in silence, passing a slight curve into the road that would have lead you toward the highway and out of town, but what laid ahead for the both of you made your heart begin to beat just a bit faster.

A three car barrier was keeping you and the oldest brother from escaping this town and finding help. As Dean began to slow down, swerving slightly until the car was sitting in the middle of the road, it was clear to see that there were about six men leaning against the cars, all of them holding up shotguns. But when you caught sight of a familiar face standing in the middle, you leaned in your seat to get a closer look, and when you realized who it was, your lips stretched into a frown. There was Jake—the one that you had let slip between your fingertips, and let the tables be turned on you, knowing he had a loaded gun he wasn’t afraid to shoot at you.

You opened your mouth to curse at the bad luck that seemed to have follow you, but nothing more than a gasp escaped your throat when a loud banging noise vibrated from the roof, sending you jumping almost a few inches from your seat in fright. You quickly let out a fake, shaky laugh when you caught sight of an older man lingering down at the driver’s side of the window, peeking his head and looking at the both of you. And from the look on his face, it seemed you were wanted here to stay in this part of town.

“Oh, ho, ho.” Dean let out a chuckle, brushing off the jump scare with a polite smile. “Hey.”

“Sorry.” The man said, his tone flat from any emotion. “Road’s closed.”

“Yeah, we can see that.” You said, glancing over at the road before looking back at him, keeping your attention on where the man’s eyes went as your fingers began to crawl toward your back pocket where you kept your own back up. Keeping yourself calm, you asked, “What’s up?”

“Quarantine.”

"Quarantine? What is it?”

“Don’t know. Something’s going around out there.”

"Uh-huh. Who told you that?” Dean asked, seeming curious to know the answer.

“County sheriff.”

“Is he here?”

“No. He called.” The man answered. You and Dean tore your gaze away from the man for a moment and stared at one another, knowing well enough that was another warning sign that something bad was happening here. And it was better not to do what he was about to as the both of you. “Say, why don’t you two get out of the car, and we’ll talk a little?”

“Well, you are a handsome devil,” Dean couldn’t help himself but let out a chuckle, turning the suggestion into a moment for his sarcasm to shine through. “But I don’t swing that way, sorry.”

The man let out an amused chuckle himself, but he wasn’t backing down as his tone got just a bit harder this time. “I’d sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute.”

Dean pretending to think about the offer for a moment, but you could see his hand beginning to creep toward the shift gear. “Yeah, I bet you would.” He muttered underneath his breath, knowing that it was his cue to get the both of you out before it all went south.

The sound of tires squealing against the pavement was your cue to press your fingernails deep into the seats as the other hand clutched the door handle, keeping yourself from roughly whacking your body against the seat. Dean had slammed his foot on the gas pedal and started swerving backward as a way to escape. But you noticed that the man had roughly grabbed a hold of Dean’s jacket, knuckling it until his fingers turned white, shouting for him to stop as the crowd of men began to jog toward the car, and shooting off their ammo that you knew was meant for the both of you for not following their commands.

Dean tried his hardest to keep the car from swerving off and hitting the metal fences that guard off the road all while trying to push away the man that seemed to have been wanting to along for the ride. You reached behind and pulled out the knife you’d had hidden in your pocket, knowing that there was a chance to get this man away as Dean put both hands on the wheel as he swerved to get out of here. Quickly, you reached over and swung your hand down, stabbing the man directly in the palm just hard enough for him to let go after he let out a curdling scream of pain. You watched as he went flying straight into the side of the road when the car managed to shift away from the chaos, zooming down the road.

Letting out a breath, you dropped yourself back into your seat when you saw the empty road be the only sight in your vision and the group of crazy men soon becoming nothing more than a distant memory you wanted to forget about. You twirled the blade around sightly, seeing that it was now stained with the man’s blood. “What the hell was that!?” Dean nearly screamed at you, speaking up when the both of you were now minutes away from the other side of town. “You could have stabbed me!”

“Well, I didn’t. And I kept the both of us from crashing.” You said, trying to defend your actions. “Shouldn’t I get at least thank you?”

“You can stab a guy and not shoot one.”

“It was either kill or be killed—And I don’t know about you but I really don’t want to die today.”

\+ + +

Knowing the only possible exit out of this town was a bust, you and Dean decided to drive around a bit to see if there was another way to get out. The road that the both of you were driving around in was nothing but deserted, all though you kept your eyes peeled out for any pedestrians that seemed sane enough to talk to. A sudden sound of a distant gunshot sent your head shifting forward and Dean slamming on his brakes when he caught sight of someone standing in the middle of the road with a rifle pointed at the both of you. And it happened to be the same man that the three of you first talked to when arriving in town.

"Hands where I can see them!” He ordered, shouting his command that made it sound more like a threat. Neither one of you had a chance to react when he was shouting at the both of you again. “Get out of the car!” As the both of you placed your hands up in a surrender motion, he still wasn’t happy enough. “Out of the car!”

You slowly reached out to open up your side of the door while keeping your concentration the man, hoping he wasn’t feeling a bit trigger happy and blow your brains out from a sudden wrong move. "All right. Easy there, big guy.” Dean said, getting himself out of the driver’s side, soon the both of you were standing out. But nothing more than a sigh of annoyance escaped you when you caught sight of Dean whipping out his gun, pointing it directly at the man, and everything just turned into a mess of a standoff with both men shouting orders that neither wanted to follow.

“Put it down!” Dean commanded first, but the other man didn’t want to listen.

“Lower it now!”

“Put it down!”

“Are you one of them?!”

“No, are you?!”

“No!”

“You could be lying!”

“So could you!”

“Oh my, God. Shut it!” You were the loudest one of them, you gave them both a glare. You let out breath of annoyance, knowing well enough there wasn’t anything wrong with this man. Because if he was psycho like the other people you met, you and Dean would be dead by now. “Look, as much as I would love to see you two ladies bicker all day, let’s just take it easy before you kill each other.” 

The man seemed to have listened toward what you had to say, he lowered his gun just the slightest. “What’s going on with everybody?” He questioned the both of you, as if you had an answer toward the sudden psychotic behavior.

“I don’t know.” Dean admitted.

“My neighbor, Mr. Rogers—”

“Wait, you got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask.

“Not anymore.” The man said, explaining the grizzling details toward the both of you that soon made him figure out the strange behavior that’d seem to be affecting the townsfolk. “He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He’s not the only one. I mean, it’s happening to everyone.”

“I’m heading to the doc’s place.” Dean said. “There’s still some people left.”

“I’m getting the hell out.” The man said, shaking his head at the offer.

“Good luck with that plan because there’s no way out.” You said, breaking the bad news that ruined his plan for freedom. “Those freaks have the bridge covered.”

“I don’t believe you.” The man said, you just shrugged your shoulders, not caring.

“FIne, stay here. Be my guest.” You mumbled, flashing the man a sarcastic smile before you turned yourself on your heels and headed for the passenger side of the car, slipping yourself inside with Dean following behind in your actions.

But it seemed that the man had finally decided to take your offer, dropping the rifle was it was now dangling toward his side as the strap was on his shoulder. He pulled out a hand gun and slipped himself into the backseat, all while the both of men kept pointing the barrel of their guns straight at one another. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, knowing well enough it was their background in military upbringing and positions had been making them well over paranoid. “Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive.” You muttered underneath your breath.

\+ + + 

You pounded your fist against the glass door, trying to catch your breath from sprinting all the way from the car as fast as you could, the only thought in your mind was to get toward safety before some lunatic popped out. All though the drive back toward the clinic was pretty deserted with no other signs of people after the strange encounter at the bridge and finding an almost trigger happy Mark, the now retired Sergeant. You let out a breath of relief when you saw the youngest brother head up and unlock the door, swinging it open and stepped aside to let the three of you in. You rushed inside, suddenly happy to see the inside of a hospital building, knowing it was the only place you could feel somewhat safe.

Once the two other men were inside after making sure the place was clear, you heard the door being closed again before being locked, making sure not to let any more strangers inside. You turned around and face Sam when he makes sure to ask the dreaded question. “Did you guys get to a phone?”

“Roadblock.” Dean mutters the answer, but he turns his attention toward the sargent, knowing the three of you needed a word in private for what you and him had previously witnessed at the bridge. “I’m gonna have a word. Doc’s inside.”

“All right.” He mumbled, nodding his head before heading off toward the examination room.

“What’s going on out there, Dean?” Sam asks. His hand pushes down a few of the blinds to take a peek outside, luckily the streets are deserted. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a scoff from his question, running your fingers through your hair, a nervous habit to keep yourself a bit calm.

“I don’t know man, I feel like Chuck Heston in ‘Omega Man.’” Dean admits, throwing his arms out as he takes a few steps toward his brother as he continued talking. “Sarge is the only same person Y/N and I could find.”

“What are we dealing with?” You throw questions at the younger man, hoping he had found something during the time gone. “Do you know?” 

“Yeah,” Sam says, “Doc thinks it’s a virus.”

“Okay, great.” Dean’s voice turns into slight sarcasm again. “ What do you think?” 

“I think she’s right.” Sam’s honest answer takes you and his brother back just the slightest, your look at him with curiosity, wondering what made him so sure. Dean says something that makes the youngest one explain further for his reasoning. “I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, and it gets better. The virus leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“A demonic virus?” You ask, not sure if you should laugh or start crying from the news.

“More like demonic germ warfare.” Sam corrects you. A pitiful noise that you think is another scoff comes rolling out from your throat from the news that you weren’t expecting. Just when you thought you’ve seen it all, they always seem to have something special up in their sleeve for an unwanted surprise. “At least it explains why I’ve been having visions.”

"It's like a biblical plague.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, beginning to pace around the room.

“Yeah. You don’t know how right you are, Dean.” Sam said, still keeping himself stationed at the door as he took glances out to see the scenery, all though it never changes. “I’ve been pouring through Dad’s journal. I found something about the Roanoke colony. He always had a theory about 'Croatoan.’ He thought it was a demon’s name—sometimes known as daeva or reshef—a demon of plague and pestilence.”

“Well, that’s terrific. Why here? Why now?” Dean throws the questions at his brother.

“I have no idea.” Sam admits with a shake of the head. “But, guys, who knows how far this thing can spread? We’ve got to get out of here. We’ve got to warn people.”

You start wondering if this is what Ellen was trying to warn the three of you about, back when you wrapped up that case with that Andy kid. But your attention is ripped away when you heard Mark shouting something from across the small building, and it sends a bad shiver down your spine when you realize what he’s talking about.

“They’ve got one. In here.”

You followed behind the brothers, your mind buzzing with what the man was talking about. You popped your head out of the corner to see what the commotion was about, but you knew it was going to be nothing but bad news when the conversation between Dean and Mark began. “What do you mean?” Dean asked, stepping into the waiting room with you and his brother close on his tail.

“The wife—she’s infected.” Sam informed the three of you.

“And you just decided to tell us this now?” You asked the younger man. Your voice and words were laced with anger. Sam just shrugged his shoulders, giving you an apologetic stare.

“We’ve got to take care of this. We can’t just leave her in there. My neighbors—they were strong.” Mark said, explaining to the three of you what he had witnessed himself out there. None of which was making you feel comfortable that the situation could become any better. It was like this virus was making them turn into a demon; the sadistic behavior, strength, traces of sulfur. “The longer we wait, the stronger she’ll get.”

Dean pulled out his gun again from the back of his pants and cocked his gun, making sure to turn off the safety, all before heading off, the rest of you following behind. You stepped back into the doctor’s office where you found Pam and Dr. Lee. You knew there was going to be some controversy pitching the idea to ending the life of Mrs. Tanner, who was being held in the supply closet. While the doctor seemed to have been quiet about the plan, Pam didn’t seem too comfortable with it, and she wasn’t afraid to lash out and speak her mind. 

“You’re gonna kill Beverly Tanner?” She questioned, leaning over slightly with her arms crossed over her chest. She tightened the grip of her arms from the fear of this unexpected plan.

“Doctor, could there be any treatments?” You asked the woman. You weren’t exactly on board with this plan, but all of you had little options unless you wanted to turn into the woman locked away or die a slow, painful death. “Some kind of cure for this?”

Dr. Lee looked a child that was thrusted on stage and expected to perform; her mouth was parted open slightly as her body began to shake, her eyes went wide as all of the attention became turned on her. And the fact that Dean stepped up from behind you and continued to question her for an answer wasn’t exactly helpful, either. “Can you cure it?”

“I don’t even know what 'it’ is.” She snapped at all of you, her nerves getting the best of her.

“It’s a matter of time before she breaks through.” Mark says, positioning himself at the door with his rifle up, just in case something were to happen.

“Just leave her there. You can’t shoot her like an animal.” Pam spoke up again.

But that wasn’t going to stop the brothers from doing what needed to be done. Sam headed over and positioned himself at the door, Dean and Mark got themselves ready to take down the woman. Guilt suddenly began to creep inside your stomach when the nurse turned her gaze on you, as if you had the power to do something about this to change everyone’s mind about what was going to happen in the next few seconds. All you could manage to do was divert your gaze somewhere else to keep yourself but blurting out something to stop them. No matter what, you knew this needed to be done.

With the nod of a head from his brother, Sam slowly reached out a hand and unlocked the door, all before quickly opening it and throwing himself back before something were to happen. But the woman was huddled in the corner with her knees pressed up toward her chest. “Mark? What are you doing?” She questioned the man, her voice was filled with fear, trying to mess with him to get him to turn on all of you. Her voice cracked as she started to cry.

“Mark, it’s them. They locked me in here. They tried to kill me.“ She sobbed out, Mark’s face was written with pain and guilt, trying to keep his mind focused on the plan "They’re infected, not me. Please, Mark. You’ve known me all of your life. Please.”

You cursed underneath your breath, heading up toward the youngest brother, but your attention was on the woman. She didn’t look like the other infected people that you saw out there. You only saw a poor, defenseless woman that was begging for her life—but looks can be deceiving to the human eye.

“Are you sure she’s one of them?” You asked in a whispered tone, just wanting to make sure this was the right choice. Sam nodded his head, his facial expressions were hard as he kept his gaze on the woman. All it took was a mumbled yes for the plan to continue on.

No matter how many deaths you’ve seen or caused, one like this suddenly made you feel squeamish, like another bystander that had never seen this kind of evil before. You made yourself turn around with your back toward the door when you heard Dean take a few steps forward. The three gunshots that went off from his gun were expected, but they still made you flinch in the mixture of guilt and fear for what had to be done. When you opened your eyes and took your gaze up from the ground, you saw the doctor and nurse staring at you.

\+ + +

You didn’t know how much someone could prepare for the worst; you’d had a knife tucked in your left shoe and a loaded gun stuffed in the back of your pants. Other sorts of weapons were spread across the place, mostly ammo and guns that the brothers were tinkering around with for the meantime after making a trip to unload and find what they could use. When you peeked outside the blinds from the window overlooking the town, a frown stretched across your lips at the shadowy figures that were wandering around the place, waiting for the moment when one of you made the mistake and stepped out.

You felt like you were in a bad horror movie, stranded in the middle of some small town, a ridiculous infection that was making everyone go insane. You tried to keep yourself in a calm manner, knowing that you’ve faced worse situations and survived. If that wasn’t enough proof that things were going to be okay, you have two hunters that were trained like soldiers, a marine who’s served time and seen worse and endless amount of weapons that could keep all of you safe for a while. Your thoughts and fear were still clawed at your mind, whenever demons were involved during hunts, trouble followed.

But your thoughts were cut short when you heard the sound of glass shattering from across the room and a panicked voice shouting, “Oh, God! Is there any on me?! Am I okay?!” You and the brothers rushed toward the office to see what the commotion was about. But your attention shifted toward the broken glass and blood samples of the Tanners. Luckily, Pam seemed to have been clean from her clumsy mistake. “Why are we staying here? Please, let’s just go.”

“No, we can’t.” Dean spoke up. “Cause those things are everywhere.”

“Oh, God.” Pam whined, bending down to pick up the mess. “Why is this happening?”

The doctor tried to calm down the younger woman by quietly shushing her, you let out a sigh before turning your gaze toward the boys, wondering what kind of plan they had in mind. “She’s’ right about one thing. We can’t stay here.” Sam spoke up, trying to be the voice of reason and make a sensible plan of action. “We’ve got to get out of here, get to the roadhouse, somewhere. Let people know what’s coming.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point. But 'Night of the Living Dead’ didn’t exactly end pretty.” Dean pointed out the zombie classic. But you weren’t in the mood for his terrible humor, throwing him a dirty glare and hissing out his name, as if you were scolding a small child for acting out in public.

“Lots of folks up here are good with rifles.” Mark said, giving the three of you a bit of news that wasn’t exactly something that was going to make you feel as if the odds of getting out of here alive were high. “Even with all of your hardware, we’re easy targets. So, unless you’ve got some explosives…”

You let out a quiet sigh as your eyes wandered around the room, but as they went up toward the top of a cabinet, your face suddenly lit up with an idea. You might not exactly be the strongest when it came toward defending yourself, but you were smart enough to use what was around you. “We could make some.” You said, heading over toward the cabinet where all sorts of medical bottles sat. You stood on your tippy toes and grabbed a small bottle that was marked as potassium chloride. Mixed with another medicine, you had the perfect weapon.

“Let me in! Let me in, please!”

Pounding on the front door quickly caught everyone off guard, you shoved the bottle back in the cabinet when you saw the three men head to see who it was. You waited for a few seconds to see who it was, but you found yourself peeking your head out when you heard a familiar name being shouted out. Your eyes landed on a man—the exact same one that Sam had mentioned in his dream, you watched as Duane Tanner headed inside the room that you were previously in with Mark trailing behind him. “That’s the guy that I…” Dean whispers to his brother, making a slicing motion as he clicked his tongue for an effect. Sam nodded his head, knowing very well that it was him, and that his vision could be coming true.

“Who else is in here?” Duane questions.

But none of you are stupid enough at just letting some stranger stumbling in here without getting a proper examination to make sure that he wasn’t infected. Dean came up from behind him and roughly grabbed him by the arm to keep him from going anywhere. “Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, chief.” He said, yanking the man around so now the man is facing him. “Hey, Doc, give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

The doctor, who had been standing in the doorway to see what the commotion was about, nodded her head and headed back toward the examination room. She called out for the nurse, wherever she ended up, as the rest of you followed behind the woman to get this inspection out of the way.

“Who are you?” Duane continued to ask questions, looking over his shoulder at Dean.

“Never mind who I am.” The oldest Winchester mumbled, shoving the man further inside the room, wanting to get this over with quick as possible. “Doc.”

Duane dropped his backpack toward the ground and sat himself down on a chair when he began to realize there was going to be no way out of this. Mark stepped inside the room, his attention focused on the younger man as Pam busied herself getting a sample of the man’s blood, just to make sure he wasn’t infected. “Duane, where you been?” Mark asked with slight curiosity.

“I was on a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon.” He started explaining the story that seemed to have checked out from the one that you heard from his brother and father. But it turned into what he has seen out there. “I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know. They started cutting him with knives. I ran. I’ve been hiding in the woods ever since. And has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

You licked your lips, knowing their dead bodies were lying just in the next room, but you kept yourself quiet and trailed your gaze somewhere else. “Awkward.” Dean mumbled, turning his head to look at you and his brother, you just rolled your eyes when you looked up to yell at him, but he quickly turned his attention back toward the other man.

Dr. Lee snapped on a pair of fresh gloves and stepped over toward the man that was now sitting in front of her. As she began to take a quick examination of the man, her eyes trailed over his body, but the ripped denim caught her attention. She crouched down to see if the suspicion that began to settle inside her mind was true. “You’re bleeding.” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out, yanking the fabric apart to reveal red stained skin. All of you suddenly became stiff with fear.

“Where did you get that?” Dean asked.

“I was running. I must have tripped.”

But it seemed that there wasn’t a chance Dean was going to believe the man, so he did the only thing that seemed reasonable at the moment. “Tie him up.” He instructed toward the older man. “There’s rope in there.”

“Wait—”

“Sit down!” Dean suddenly shouted as he whipped back his gun to point it at the man who just tried to get up from the chair.

“Sorry, Duane. He’s right.” Mark said giving the man an apologetic stare. “But he’s right. We’ve got to be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?”

“No. What the hell?! No!”

“Doc, any way to know for sure? Any test?” Sam asks, wondering if the woman had some answers that could help shed some light on this disaster of a situation..

“I’ve studied Beverly’s blood work backwards and forwards.” Dr. Lee started to explain. Duane’s face dropped when he heard the mention of his mother’s name. “It took three hours for the virus to incubate. Sulfur didn’t appear in the blood until then, so, no. There would be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane…turns.”

"Dean, Y/N,” Sam whispered, you turn your head to look at him when you could hear the urgency in his voice, “I’ve got to talk to you two. Now.”

You followed behind the youngest brother as the other one trailed behind, closing behind the door to leave Mark to do the unwanted task. The three of you walked until you were in the doctor’s office, away from everyone else to have a real private conversation since getting here. “This is my vision, Dean.” Sam speaks up first when he steps inside the room last. You hear hear the hint of fear in his voice. “It’s happening.”

"Yeah, I figured.” Dean mumbled.

“You can’t kill him. Not yet.” Sam said, shaking his head, trying to keep his vision from happening for as long as he could. “We don’t know if he’s infected or not.”

“I think we’re pretty damn sure.” Dean said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Guy shows up out of nowhere, cut on his leg, his whole family is infected.”

"Okay. We should keep him tied up,” You suggested, “And we should wait and see.”

“For what?” For him to Hulk out, infect somebody else?“ Dean questions, turning his head to look at you. "No thanks, Can’t take that chance.” But as he tried to make a quick escape from his brother that was standing in front of him, Sam blocked his way. “Look, man, I’m not happy about this, but it’s a tough job, and you two know that.”

“It’s supposed to be tough, Dean.” Sam said. “We’re supposed to struggle with this.”

“What does that buy us?” Dean asked in a sarcastic tone.

“A clear conscience, for one.” Sam said.

“It’s too late for that.” The other brother stated.

“What the hell has happened to you?” You questioned at the older man, yanking him backwards so you could get your own opinion on the matter. “You might kill an innocent man, and you don’t even care. You don’t act like yourself anymore. Hell, you’re acting like one of those things out there.”

Dean brushed off your concern with a simple shrug and dirty look; he decided to make his move again and try to move past his brother. Sam put out his arms to stop his brother, but found himself being thrown backwards when he underestimated his brother’s strength against his own. It took you a moment to realize what was going on before it was too late. You quickly ran toward the door when you saw it being shut when Dean stepped into the hall.

“Hey!” You shouted at the man, reaching for the doorknob. All though, nothing more than a curse word escaped your lips when you heard the lock clink into place as the doorknob wouldn’t budge. “Open the damn door, Dean.” You hissed, staring at him from the small window. But he didn’t listen, you watched as he turned around and headed down the hall. “Dean! Don’t you dare do it!

When you saw the man disappear from sight, you let out a sharp sigh and turned around, not sure what to do next. You leaned your backside against the door and waited for minutes to hear the sound of a single gunshot to let the both of you know that the dark deed was done. You were so caught up in your thoughts and the silence, the sudden sound of pounding against the door caught you off guard from the vibrations that shook your body from leaning on it. You and Sam watched as the door was unlocked and stepped inside the oldest brother, his face was written in defeat as he gun was hanging from his hand—enough of a sign to know that Duane Tanner was still alive for the moment.

\+ + +

Hours passed since the almost death of the newcomer; you walked into the room with a handful of different supplies that ranged from chemicals that could be used for more explosives and rags you had found in some cabinet. You didn’t say anything to the boys when you caught sight of them working on mixing the chemicals you’d previously showed them of what could be used for a weapon. You managed to find some space on the counter, shoving a few other empty bottles aside, keeping yourself busy enough to keep the unwanted conversation from coming up. When the familiar sound of heels clicked against the floor, you liked up to see who it was.

“It’s been over four hours. Duane’s blood is still clean.” Dr. Lee stepped into the room, her hands were inside her white jacket as she stood in the doorway. You put down the bottles and let out a sigh of relief from the good news she brought the three of you. “I don’t think he’s infected. I’d like to untie him, if that’s all right.”

You looked over your shoulder for an answer from the either one of the brothers; Dean seemed to have been lost in thought, keeping himself quiet, not even any signs of body language could give you a hint what he was feeling at the moment. Sam stared at his brother for a few moments, as if he was waiting for the man to answer. But when he still remained quiet, Sam nodded, “Yeah. Sure.” He said, giving the doctor permission.

You put your attention back toward what you were doing, all while eavesdropping on the conversation between the brothers. “You know I’m gonna ask you why.” Sam whispers.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean mumbled, lifting up tinted glass bottle to make sure he had enough mixture to make this right.

“So, why?” Sam asked his brother. “Why didn’t you do it?”

Dean kept quiet for a few moments, he looked around at the chemicals, trying to find a distraction. “We need more alcohol.”

“I’ll get it.” You said, throwing the cloth you’d been tearing apart down to the counter. Neither one of them said anything to you as you passed by, heading to the other room that was just behind Sam. As you stepped inside, you took note of the nurse who had been lingering around here for the past few minutes. “How are you holding up, Pam?”

“Good. It will be all over soon.” She said. You nodded your head, turning your back toward her, you focused your attention on the bottles that sat in front of you, wondering where the one you wanted was lying at. Pam quietly walked to the door, closing it without making much noise, you didn’t even hear the lock click. “In fact, I’ve been waiting for this the whole time.”

You grabbed two bottles from the counter and turned your body back to face the door. You furrowed your eyebrows when you saw that the door was shut, and she was standing right in front of it. You wondered if she needed to talk to you, since everything had been pretty intense, she might have needed some clarification that everyone was going to work out in the end. “For what?” You asked.

“To get you alone.”

You opened your mouth to ask what she needed, but the only thing that came out of your mouth was a gasp, not expecting for this to happen. Pam let out a scream, roughly pushing you against the floor, which you fell on your back. Your head roughly bump against the floors, making your vision black before coming back as blurry. You could hear the bottles roll out toward the other side of the room as you laid on the ground for a few moments to get yourself recovered from the blow. But you had little time to react when you felt the sudden pressure of her body being pinned down, keeping you from struggling from what she was about to do next.

Pam took out a scalpel and yanked down part of your shirt, just enough skin for her to run the blade down your chest. You let out a gasp of pain, seeing blood rise toward the surface made you begin panic. Your eyes widened when you finally came toward your senses as she took the blade and ran it down her palm, all before slamming it down against your own wound, mixing the blood together. The door was kicked down when everyone realized what had happened, but it was too late to undo the damage that had been done.

You could hear three shots go off, all landing straight in Pam’s chest before she dropped toward the ground. You winced in pain, trying to collect your thoughts from what had happened. The pain in the back of your head seemed to be in battle with your cut on your chest, both of them were enough to keep you still. But before either one of the brothers could take a step to see if you were okay, Mark stopped them with the unfortunate news nobody expected to hear.

“Pam bled on her. She’s got the virus.”

\+ + + 

Your small hand was wrapped around one of the crayons that you had spread all over your comforter, making sure to be extra careful in not making any marks on the fabric to leave it stained. Your mother had said if you were to stay upstairs in your room and drew some nice pictures, your special prize this weekend could be going out for ice cream since the temperatures during summer were beginning to grow warmer.

You dropped the crayon toward the mattress when you finished up another drawing, the crayon rolled slightly until it hit the other pieces of construction paper that you were previously doodling on, just waiting for the time until your parents were done speaking. As you grabbed a blank of piece of paper and the red crayon from the pile, something coming from the outside caught your attention. It took you a second time hearing the noise to realize it was a bark, like it was coming from the neighbor’s new dog.

Out of curiosity, you pushed yourself off the bed and jumped down toward the carpeted floor, wiggling your toes to feel the new carpet tickling the bottom of your feet. You walked over to the opened window and climbed on the wooden toy chest for a better view of the backyard. You began to glance around the grass to see where that dog could be hiding around; he wasn’t on the swingset or hiding behind the shed. There wasn’t any walking on the streets with their owner. Maybe your parents were right, while you had pointed out the noise before, they shrugged it off with saying that there wasn’t a dog. But you had seen one before–it was big and scary. You wondered if the scary dog finally went away, and he was just saying goodbye.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” You hear your father’s voice boom inside the quiet room, making you jump in fright. When you look over your shoulder, he’s standing in the doorway with his hands crossed over his chest, obviously not happy that you had broken the rule about climbing on things. when nobody is around to make sure you were safe.

He walked across the room and scooped you up in his arms, you took a deep breath, smelling the cologne he puts on right after taking a shower. You remember the scent because the bathroom is always warm and foggy when it’s time for you to take your morning bath during the week. It makes you feel safe. Your father sets you on the front of the bed and grabs your drawing to look at before sitting down on the edge. “I heard it again, Daddy.” You said in a low tone. He glances up from the pictures, you see his forehead scrunch up as his eyebrows turn into a single one. “The doggy. But when I tried to see if it was there, he was gone.”

“Is that why you were peeking out the window?” He asks, you nod your head slowly. As your father turns his attention toward your drawings, he flicks through that seem innocent enough, but he starts seeing a pattern that makes a bad feeling sit in his gut. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something and I want to answer honestly.“ You nod your head.

He picks up one of your pictures that almost seems innocent enough; it’s a drawing of the family that is colored with bright crayons. But the black scribble you did in the background with red eyes makes your father grow nervous. “Y/N, why did you draw this?” He asks, pointing toward the shadow figure that lingers in the background. You grow silent, just shrugging your shoulders, not wanting to answer. “Honey, you can tell me. I promise to believe you.”

“They scare me.”

“Who, sweetheart? Who is making you afraid?”

"The shadow people. They say mean things.” You mumbled, turning your eyes toward the wall to see if they were there. You look back at your father, your tone dropping toward a whisper when you speak again. “The evil man with yellow eyes scares me the most. He tells me I’m going to be bad just like him. Am I?”

"Come here, sweetheart. I need to tell you something.” Your father reaches over and picks you up, setting you on his lap so you’re now staring at him. He lets out a quiet sigh, not exactly sure how he was going to explain this to a two year old. “There is good and evil in this world. You have a bit of both in you, we all do.” He says, poking a finger at where you hear your heart thump away. “But there can be just evil people that want to…hurt everyone’s feelings for the fun of it. They come from a bad place, far away from here. We keep them locked away like prisoners, but sometimes, they escape to cause trouble.”

“That’s not nice.” You said, scrunching your nose up.

Your father let out a quiet chuckle. "Well, they don’t know any better. But I promise, this is going to stop right now. I’m going to make sure these people won’t bother you ever again. As long as I’m around, and even if I’m not, someone is looking out for you. You’re safe from them.”

“Even from the yellow eyed man?”

“Especially him.”

\+ + +

You come to your senses with a sudden gasp for air. You blink a few times and feel a strange wetness on your shirt, the spot where you had left the ice pack to heal your wound. But it feels good on your flustered skin. You take a deep breath and place your numb fingertips that was holding the pack toward your forehead, the skin still feels burning hot, like you’re running a fever. You shift around on the cushioned examining table you must have passed out one. The room seems quiet as you begin to think you’re alone, locked away like some caged animal for fear that you somehow had turned into one of those monsters lurking outside, and they’re waiting to see which one of you will attack first. You think you should start feeling those thoughts, but all you want to do is go back to sleep, the room suddenly feeling like it’s spinning from the spike in your body heat.

A handful of different pairs of eyes are staring at you when you turn your head just the slightest, a few of them are on edge with fear, some are full of concern and worry—just like the others times you’ve been in this situation when you’re tipping at the edge of death. You guessed third time around really was the charm. You force yourself to sit up when you realize it’s been about two hours since you had passed after you glanced at the clock on the wall. You make yourself sit up on the table, wincing in pain between clenched teeth when you feel your wound open just the slightest and the bandages tug at your skin. Your heart begins to beat louder in fear when you see the glares coming from the two men that are standing right across from where you’re sitting. You quickly drop your gaze toward the floor, keeping yourself from giving the same glare back, knowing it wouldn’t work well in your favor.

“Doctor, check her wound again, would you?” Dean’s voice rings inside your ears as his figure pops out from the corner of your eye. You lift your head up just enough to see him walk toward the other side of the room, his gaze keeping on you so now he’s standing right across from you. Before he can make eye contact with you, you drop your attention toward the titles again.

“What does she need to examine her for?” Mark questions the oldest brother, his face is scrunched up with annoyance as he threw up a hand to make his point. “You saw what happened.”

Dr. Lee doesn’t listen toward the other man’s opinion, she takes a small step toward you. “Did her blood actually enter your wound?” She questions, her tone was hard. You can tell from the look in her eye that she knows it happened, she just wants to play along to keep everyone at peace, but it doesn’t work.

“Come on, of course it did!” Mark answers before you could even open your mouth.

“We don’t know that for sure.” Dean snaps at the man, obviously not happy with what he just said.

“We can’t take a chance.” Duncan pipes his opinion in, Sam throws the man a vicious glare to shut him up before he loses his temper himself like his brother.

“You know what we have to do.” Mark continues edging everyone toward the plan.

“Nobody is shooting her.” Sam says, you see him move a few steps toward you, as if those men were really going to try and pull a move. Just from what the brothers were saying alone in this kind of voice, you were even beginning to become frightened from the animalistic behavior everyone was starting to show, not sure what was going on anymore.

"She’s not gonna be like this for much longer.” Duncan continued on. “You said it yourself.”

“Nobody’s shooting anyone.”

“You were gonna shoot me!”

“If you don’t shut your pie hole, I just might.” Dean growls, throwing his hand up and points directly at the man hiding behind Mark like a coward. You take a deep breath, trying to get yourself to find the courage and speak up before someone seriously got hurt.

“Guys, they’re right.” You manage to croak out. You force your eyes up from the floor to stare at each of the brothers for a few moments, your fingernails dig deeper into the cushion, the reality hit you like a ton of bricks when you spoke the truth. “I’m infected. J-Just give me the gun. I’ll do it myself.” You say, but when you hear Dean speak, you can’t help yourself but snap at him, the hope is gone from the situation. “I’m

gonna turn into one of them. I can’t.”

“Y/N, we’ve still got some time.” Sam speaks up, trying to be the optimistic one.

“Time for what?” Mark questions the brothers again. “Look, I understand she’s your best friend and partner, and I’m sorry, I am. But I’ve got to take care of this.” Suddenly everyone jumps back slightly when the man decides to whip out his gun. Your body stiffens in fear, knowing that he’s really not joking about wanting you dead. Even though you had a few more hours to go before you started changing and becoming a real threat toward anyone.

“You make a move on her, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground. Do you understand me?” Dean threatens. He stares at the man with a look that makes him lower the gun just a bit, but not enough to make the Winchester happy. His tone of voice rises when he speaks up again, “Do I make myself clear?”

“What are we supposed to do?!” Mark suddenly screams in frustration of the lack of options. You nervously swallow from his tone.

Everyone goes silent; you see the brothers are giving each other a look, as if they’re speaking with small gestures and looks that you can’t seem to understand. After a few seconds, you see Dean reach inside his pants pocket and pull out the keys to his precious Baby and tosses them over to Mark, who catches them in his palm. It doesn’t register what they’re about to before someone speaks of the plan. “Get the hell out of here. That’s what.” Dean tells everyone the plan, you look at the man with pure shock written across your face. Those idiots were going to be staying. “Take my car. You’ve got the explosives. There’s an arsenal in there.”

“You two go with them.” Sam nods his head at the doctor and Duncan, you grit your teeth in overwhelming frustration. “You got enough firepower to handle anything now.”

‘What about you two?“ Mark asks, the brothers look down at the ground.

"Sam, Dean—no.

.” You say, finally finding your voice. You shake your head, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. “Go with them. This is your only chance.”

“You’re not gonna get rid of us that easy, sweetheart.” Dean said, you give him a scowl at his wronged timed humor.

“No, she’s right, man. Come with us.” Mark said, still trying to get the brothers to come along before it was too late. Sam shook his head, knowing there wasn’t enough convincing in the world he was going to leave you alone like this. Dean glances at the man, you can see the hope has begin to fade in the brothers’ eyes. They’re ready to give up with you. “Okay, it’s your funeral.”

Mark and Duncan give you a quick, almost fake and forced, sympathetic stare before turning around and vanishing from the hall. The doctor takes a few steps toward the door as Dean follows behind to close it behind her. You can’t help yourself but sniffle a few times, trying to keep yourself from crying because of the guilt that begins to weigh down on your chest. You feel a hand wrap around your own, when you glance up, Sam’s standing by your side. You quickly rip his grip away and stare at something across the room, nothing but anger begins to boil in your chest for how idiotic these boys were acting.

The doctor stands in the doorway for a few moments, struggling to find the proper final words before departing, leaving the three of you alone, to die. “I’m sorry. Thanks for everything, Marshals.” You force a smile when she looks at you, knowing you’ve somehow drew the short end of the stick.

“Oh, actually, we’re not Marshals.” Dean breaks the news, shrugging his shoulders and crookedly smiles at the woman, knowing it was better late than never to break the news. She stares at the three of you for a moment, her mouth stays open for a moment before mumbled words come slowly out.

“Um…oh.”

You hear the door close behind the last remaining person, and a few seconds later, the click of the lock keeping the three of you stuck inside. You didn’t know if the fever is causing you to suddenly feel like everything is beginning to spin all around you, or if it’s the guilt of the situation. But in the back of your mind, you reminded yourself that if one of the boys were in the exact situation that you were in, you knew it would be a lie if you would have walked out that door and left them alone to die. As an awkward silence threatens to fall over the three of you, the attention in the room shifts over to Dean, who is trying his hardest to keep everyone calm.

You stare at him for a few seconds before he speaks, nothing but a stone cold glare is sketched across your face, but they ignore it. “I wish we had a deck of cards or a foosball table or something.” Dean makes himself put out a chuckle as you watch him walk across the room. Sam gives him a look to stop talking.

“Guys. Don’t do this. Please.” You mumbled, furrowing your brows together in anger when you reach up a hand to stop anything from falling down your flustered cheeks. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“No way.” You hear Sam mumble, you toss your attention over to him. He’s the last person you want wasting his life, all the potential of becoming something from talking about it. You weren’t going to stop it here because of your fatal mistake.

“Damnit. Give the gun and leave.” You order, all though your tone is quiet, almost weak sounding.

“For the last time, no, Y/N.” Dean says, tipping you off the edge from how stubborn he was being. You look over at Sam, he just shakes his head, knowing well enough the other brother wasn’t going to walk out that easily. But you’re shaking with anger now.

Like a spoiled child that wasn’t getting their way, you made a tight fist and slammed it down against the table. The brothers stare at you, seeming taken back by your outburst. You couldn’t take it anymore. “This is the stupidest thing you two have ever done.” You hiss with an icy tone.

“I don’t know about that. Sammy’s done a lot of stupid things in his lifetime.” Dean tried to joke again, but his little brother hisses something to stop joking. “Hey, remember that waitress in Tampa?” You give him a glare when he shudders of the memory of a bad hookup.

“Guys, I’m sick. It’s over for me.” You admit, looking at the two of them, you force a smile to make your point. “But it doesn’t have to be for you two. There’s still so much left out there. You guys can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?” Dean questions you, you furrow your eyebrows, not expecting what was about to come out.

“W—What?”

Dean remains quiet for a few moments, you watch as he turns around and sits himself down at the edge of some desk. He takes out his gun, you hear a click to know that the safety is on, you glance back over at the man when he speaks again. “I’m tired, Y/N.” Dean admits. “I’m tired of this job… This life. I’m tired of this weight. I’m tired of it all.”

“So, what? So you’re just gonna give up? You two are just going to throw away everything you’ve said to me about going on?” You choke out the words with anger, it’s getting harder to see through the wetness in your eyes. “After everything we’ve been through. You two are just gonna lay down and die? Look, I know things with your dad—”

“You’re wrong.” Dean cuts you off. “It’s not about him. I mean, part of it is. Sure, but there’s secrets…and I can’t keep them hidden anymore.”

“Then what is it? I’m not gonna be around much longer. So, you better start spilling.”

Suddenly there’s something coming from the outside hall that sends all of your attention around, wondering what it could be. Dean nods a head at his brother to stand guard as he picks his gun up from the table, slowly approaching the door when the sound of footsteps become closer. There’s a sudden pounding on the door that sends you a few inches up in the shock, but you take a breath to calm yourself when Dean unlocks and swings open the door. Dr. Lee was back.

“You better come see this.”

\+ + +

You thought she was messing with you, but she wasn’t kidding–every townsperson seemed to have vanished from sight, not even a single car was parked around the street. Taking a step down from the sidewalk, you turned your head around every inch of the outside world to see if you could find someone peeking behind the buildings. It seemed that everyone who wasn’t infected by the disease and kept themselves away were still here. All of you kept giving one another peculiar glances, as if there was a reason behind all of this, but nobody to have seemed a reasonable answer that seemed sane enough to speak out loud from the theories that buzzed in their head.

“There’s no one. Not anywhere.” Dr. Lee spoke up, sending everyone’s attention shifting toward her again or the moment. “They’ve all just vanished.”

Croatoan. The word kept repeating itself in your mind when you turned your head to look at the telephone pole with the words scratched into the wood. You get a bad feeling sit in the pit of your stomach when you think abou the old legend surrounding the simple word. Once thought to be a myth, you hate to realize that history had just repeated itself.

\+ + +

You glance back at the clock to see that it’s been hours since you were infected, and strangely, you feel completely fine. Your fever and dizzy spells seemed to have vanished just a little while ago, and there was no urge to kill someone. Just to make sure, the doctor took another sample of your blood and lead the both of you alone to examine if you were really clean. You impatiently sat for what felt like forever as you watched her sit at the microscope, just examining and resizing the lens. She finally says something after a few minutes of pure silence.

“Well, it’s been five hours, and your blood’s still clean.” She says, leaning back to look at you while she delivers the good news. You sit up straighter, taken back by what she discovered. “I don’t understand it, but I think you dodged a bullet.”

“But I was exposed. How could I not be infected.” You asked, as if she knew.

“I don’t know, but you’re just not.” She tried to explain, leaning back down to her microscope to examine the blood again. “I mean, when you compare it with the Tanner samples–What the hell?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What?”

“Their blood–there’s no trace of the virus.” The doctor said, glancing back at you with the strangest look when she told you the findings. “No sulfur. Nothing.”

\+ + +

Morning arrived when you stepped out of the building again; you forced a smile at Mark and Duncan when they were packed up and ready to leave tow. Everyone was leaving on strange terms, knowing it was just a few short hours ago that someone could have died from a heated argument, now it seemed like nothing had happened. You walked over toward the brothers that were leaning against the car, waiting for you to show back up. You needed at least a few minutes to yourself in order to soak in everything that happened during this past day alone. You weren’t even going to let yourself think about what you’d discovered back on the old case, your head might explode from the overthinking that would sure follow.

“What about her?” You slightly cringed when you heard Dean speak up, bringing the attention back on you, knowing they still needed to know if you were going to be okay.

“She’s gonna be fine.“ The doctor said, smiling at the news. "No signs of infection.”

With that being said, you see from the corner of your eye that the doctor heads back into the building and the two other men are down the road. When you turn your attention back toward the brothers, they’re staring at you; one is standoffish, confused from the unknown while the other thinks, trying to figure out what could have lead toward your miraculous recovery. But neither of them make you feel comfortable. "Don’t look at me like that.” You mumbled, turning your attention toward a small pebble. “I have no clue.”

“I swear, I’m gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here? Why now?” Dean starts throwing questions around that had crossed your mind almost a dozen times. “Where the hell did everybody go? It’s not like they just freaking melted.”

“Why was I immune?” You mumbled to yourself, thinking that nobody heard you.

“Yeah, you know what? That’s a good question.” Dean seems to have, you look over your shoulder to see him heading toward the driver’s side of the car. “You know, I’m already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.”

You try to shake the feeling that something was wrong with this entire situation. But you had more questions that seemed to have been piling up more from leaving this town. You knew everything was beginning to become clear, there was something going on, and you wanted to know what made you immune. What that picture was all about. But the problem was that you don’t know where to start or who to talk to without raising warning flags. For now you could call yourself something that sounded just about right. A freak.

\+ + +

Everything for now seemed more at peace; you pulled the jacket tighter around your body as you overlooked the wide lake. The sight was rather breathtaking, enjoying it while the brothers relaxed themselves with a much needed beer. You turned yourself around and leaned yourself against the wood, eyeing Sam from the corner of your eye as he sat on top of the fence, you couldn’t help yourself but smile from the thought of him falling backwards into the freezing water if he wasn’t careful enough. You tucked your lips away when you caught him staring at you, wondering what you were quietly laughing about. Turning your attention toward the other brother, changing the subject toward the one you’d been thinking about in detail.

“So, last night–you want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?” You asked the oldest Winchester, giving him a curious look. He wasn’t the type to just throw his emotions out there, and it was some pretty heavy stuff he admitted toward the both of you.

“What do you mean?” He asked, turning his attention toward you.

“I mean you said you were tired of the job and that it wasn’t just because of Dad.” Sam speaks up next, showing interest to learn more about what his brother meant in all of this.

“Forget it.” Dean mumbled to the both of you.

“Oh, you’re not gonna get off the hook that easy, Winchester.” You said. “Spill.”

“I thought we were all gonna die.” Dean tried to defend himself. “You can’t exactly hold that over me.”

“Bull. You can’t pull that crap with, maybe your brother because he’s not a wonderful interrogator like me. I know the two of you better than you know yourselves.” You said, giving him a smirk while leaning in closer. “Start talking.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I guess Sam and I will just have to keep asking you until you do.”

Dean scoffed quietly at your threat, he stared at the water for a few moments longer before turning around and positioned himself like you. He stared at something in the distance before speaking. “I don’t know, man. I just think maybe we ought to…” He trailed off for a short period of time, you stared at him wondering what he was going to say next. “…go to the Grand Canyon.”

Sam looked at his brother for a few seconds, “What?”

“Yeah, you know all of this driving, back and forth across the country–do you know I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon?” Dean continues on with his idea, shifting his attention toward his brother, who is looking at his like the man’s grown a second head. “Or we could go to T.J. or Hollywood–see if we could bang Lindsay Lohan.”

“You’re not making any sense.” Sam said, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

“I just think we should take a break from all of this.” Dean suggested, shrugging his shoulders. “Why do we got to get stuck with all the responsibility? Why can’t we live life a little bit?”

“Why are you saying all of this?” The question slipped from the youngest man’s mouth.

But before the other brother could elaborate more on his thoughts, you watched in annoyance when he began to walk away from the two of you. “No, no, no, no, no.” You jumped up from your spot, following behind the man as he took another swing of his beer. “Hey, you’re not getting off that easy, buddy. Get back here.”

“Dean, you’re my brother, all right?” Sam tried himself to get the man to crack and tell more what he was feeling. He was standing next to you now, watching as his brother turned around to look at him. “So, whatever weight you’re carrying, let me help a little bit.”

“I can’t.” The oldest Winchester mumbled after a period of silence. “I promised.”

“Who?”

“Dad.”

You bite your bottom lip, starting to think back toward the moments before his death. How his last conversation was with his oldest son, you stare at him. "What are you talking about?“

"Right before Dad died…he told me something.” Dean began to admit, slowly speaking as he turned his attention toward the both of you. The look in his eye made you think it wasn’t something good. “He told me something about you two.”

Your heartbeat began to pound inside your chest from the nerves that seemed to have been getting worse. “What?” You mumbled out, your face scrunching up in confusion. When nobody said anything, you felt yourself become more agitated with anger. “Dean, what did he tell you?”


	10. Hunted.

You stared at the man standing in front of you as you licked your lips to keep them from chapping up from the autumn breeze that passed by. Seconds passed by after you question again to know what Dean was going to tell about you and his little brother. The anxiety and anticipation was making your heartbeat thump in your chest, hitting against the inside of your ribcage. You almost thought it was going to jump out and land on the pavement. When the oldest man opened his mouth to explain, you held your breath. You read his body language to see that he was nervous, his fingers were twitching as he tried to look at anything else but the people standing in front of him. Whatever news he had to bring up to the light, it wasn’t going sit well in your mind.

“He said that he…” Dean spoke up finally, turning his gaze away from the lake for a moment to look at Sam. As he continued speaking ever so slightly, his eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to be pained from what he was saying. “Wanted me to watch out for you two….take care of you.”

“John told you that a million times.” You said, almost seeming to shrug off the concern when Dean shifted his attention toward you. Even from the stare that he was giving you, it still didn’t sink in that he knew more and this was just the beginning of a terrible truth nobody expected to hear.

“Well, Y/N, this time was different.” Dean said. He let out a quiet sigh as he looked back down at the ground for a second. “He said that I had to,” When he trailed off again, you weren’t expecting for him to start off the conversation again with a line that almost made you want to laugh at how dramatic he was being. “Protect you. Before it could get worse.”

“Protect me from what?” You questioned him, beginning to become skeptical of what he was talking about. When you glanced over at Sam to see if he had an idea of the nonsense that his brother was speaking. It seemed that he was clueless as you were. You shifted your attention back toward the oldest one when you heard him speak up again, his tone still quiet and serious.

“There’s more, Y/N.” Dean admitted. He shifted around in his spot and a quiet sigh escaped his lips, trying to find the courage for what he was about to say. “The crossroads demon, she, uh—she told me a few other names that night, the other people that made deals. And someone familiar popped into the conversation. Someone you would least expect.” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, not sure who was hinting around at. But when he spoke the name, the one that you knew as the woman who had done everything to save you from this sort of mess. It seemed that she’d thrown you to the wolves without even realizing it. “Ella made a deal with the yellow eyed demon.”

“No. No, she wouldn’t do that.” You muttered. But when you saw Dean’s face stretch into the kind of look that he was joking around. You had seen this kind of facial expression once before. It was right after your mother passed away. Even with her dead body just a few feet from where you were, he had to break the news all over again. You averted your gaze toward somewhere else for a moment. “Fine. If she did, what would be so important for her to take that risk?”

“She made some sort of pact with the thing to have a child. And that was you, Y/N.” Dean came out with the truth in a rushed sentenced. And he couldn’t stop himself from just letting the last sentence slip out of his mouth before he could realize it was too late to take it back, knowing it was the worst thing he could have done when admitting the bitter truth. “The demon told me that Andrew and Ella were dead because of you.”

You opened your mouth to get ready and lash out at the comment Dean had dropped, thinking that he had seemed to have done it without much thinking. But something buried deep, deep down in your mind stopped you from saying anything, because maybe, that small part of your mind had thought he could have been right. Another part, the bigger voice inside your head, began to tell you that demons lie all the time to get what they want. She had gotten under the man’s skin, playing a game of two truths and a lie just to see how far he could go from cracking. He would have known the part about his father was real; there was enough physical evidence to let it known. Dean was vulnerable and scared, he sure would have believed anything that bitch told him. The thought seemed to keep you from saying anything that might have caused an argument you weren’t in the mood for, you just wanted the wandering and eyes off you.

“Y—You,” A shaky breath made it from your lips when you forced yourself to break your concentration from the lake again. When you glanced over at the brothers again, you clenched your jaw to see their facial expressions were a mixture of something you didn’t want to put the effort into trying to figure out what it was. You just wanted to get the attention shifted off you for a moment. “John told you something else, about Sam before he died.” You muttered, closing your eyes for a brief moment to let yourself think. You tried to remember what the thought was. “Dean, what did he say about Sam?’

Everything was just the tip of the iceberg for what else that needed to be brought out into the air; the mood shifted around a bit until the attention was focused on the youngest brother that was standing by your side, quiet for most of the conversation. When he could feel both set of eyes on him, it seemed that was his cue to start talking again. “What did Dad say?” Sam was hesitant to ask, knowing this conversation had been going south, and he was getting dragged down too.

“He wanted me to save you,” Dean said, looking over at his brother again. He shook his head, not believing the bad luck of having to break this kind of news. Sam just stared at his brother, giving him a look that he had no idea what was hinting at. Suddenly the oldest brother was rambling again, not making much sense. “He just said that I had to save you and that nothing else mattered and if I couldn’t, I’d…” He stopped himself but the horrible request could come out of his mouth.

“You’d what, Dean?” Sam questioned, giving his brother an urgent look to continue speaking.

Dean kept his attention toward the ground for a few moments. He opened his mouth a few times, trying to get the words to come out, but it wouldn’t fall out like the other things he told to you. After seconds of silence, he made himself look at his brother and tell the truth. “I’d have to kill to you.” He mumbled. You blinked a few times, trying to process what the man had just said. As you glanced over at Sam, it seemed that he was just as taken back from the brutal request his father put on his oldest son. “He said I might have to kill you, Sammy.”

“Kill me?” The youngest brother repeated. He shifted around in his spot, not sure what the proper response could have been to say from all of this. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“He must have had some kind of reason for saying it. Did he know the demon’s plans for me? Am I supposed to go dark side or something?!” Sam kept throwing questions at his brother. He took a few steps forward, becoming frustrated from the lack of responses he was getting from everything that was happening so quickly. “What else did he say, Dean?!”

“That’s it, I swear.” Dean mumbled, shaking his head.

“How could have you not told us this?” You couldn’t help yourself but let your voice be put back into the conversation, knowing you had every right to pick the man’s brain for more answers you were dying to have. “Jesus, do you know how serious these allegations are?”

“Because it was Dad,” Dean tried to use that as an excuse. “And he begged me not to.”

“Who cares!” You couldn’t help yourself but say, not even caring if you were hurting the man’s feelings. He had said enough, now it was your turn to show him how it felt to be dragged. “Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this for us!”

“You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he never opened his mouth.” He growled in frustration. You could see the sadness and guilt that crept in his eyes as he continued. “Then I wouldn’t have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day!” 

You huffed out a breath and let the conversation die on that note; you turned around so you weren’t facing the brothers, you crossed your arms over your chest and stared at the water in front of you for a few moments. Too many thoughts began to rush inside your head all at once, you wondered if someone could have died from the overthinking. You made yourself take a deep breath and calm down, you ran your fingers through your hair and closed your eyes for the moment, trying to think of something that could have stopped you from thinking anymore about this. 

She wouldn’t do this. Your mother wasn’t that stupid to drag herself into this mess to a child. She’d gotten lucky having you, you remembered her always saying that when bragging about you to other parents and old family friends. “My little miracle.” Is what she would always call you, the smile that lit up her entire face as she went on. “Her father would be proud of her.” 

“We each got to figure out what’s going on, then,” Sam’s voice luckily broke you from your concentration. You blinked a few times before diverting your attention toward the man that was on your right. Answers and proof is what you really needed. “What the hell all this means.”

Dean was quiet for a minute, “We do?”

“Are you kidding me?” You glanced over at him, scrunching up your face slightly. “Of course we do.”

“I’ve been thinking about this. I think we should just lay low, you know.” Dean suggested, but you and his brother gave him a glare. "At least for a while—it would be safer. That way, I could make sure…”

“What?” You couldn’t help yourself but crack the slightest smile, seeing that his eyes had turned toward you for the moment. You knew what he was hinting at without even saying anything. “That I don’t turn evil? Wait, maybe you’re more worried I’ll turn into one of them because of where I came from. You think I’ll grow some black eyes and turn into some kind of killer?” You taunted at him, taking a step closer as he averted his attention toward something else. “Jeez. If you aren’t careful, you’ll have to kill me, too.”

“I never said that!“ Dean couldn’t help himself but snap at you from the unwanted comment that was adding toward his guilt. "Damn it, Y/N, this whole thing is spinning out of control. All right, you’re immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don’t even know what the hell anymore.” You gave him the worst glare you could do before putting your gaze on something else, you turned around and made sure your back was turned toward the both of them. “And you both are pissed at me, and I get it. That’s fine. I deserve it.” You looked over your shoulder, knowing well enough he was right about that part. “But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?”

“Forget it.” Sam simply said, not even bothering to try and fight off his brother. He turned around and took another sip of his beer to get his mind off from what was still happening.

"Guys, please.” Dean stepped forward, trying to get the both of you from the silent treatment. You bored daggers into his forehead when you felt his hand reach out and tap your shoulder. But you looked at him in the eyes after a moment. “Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me time to think, okay? I’m begging you here. Please, please.”

You shook your head as you could feel your lips twitch into a half smirk, a sarcastic one at best that you’d hoped would make him feel worse. As you took a step forward toward the man, you looked at him directly in the eye and made sure your voice was loud enough for him to hear you for the last words you were going to say to him. “Go screw yourself, Winchester.”

\+ + +

Slamming the motel door with the heel of your foot; you dropped all the bags you’d been carrying on your shoulders toward the ground, letting out a sigh of relief from the aching that had began to make you grow more irritable. You had wanted to gather everything you had from the car, less time you had to look at the boys or allowed yourself to get sucked up into some meaningless apology from the oldest. Ever since the conversation nobody had seen coming, all you wanted to do was lock yourself away and think, do some research to see if your suspicions that had been screaming inside your head were right. You grabbed one of the bags from the floor and headed over toward the bed, making sure to grab your laptop and the journal you had kept hidden away for days now. You let out a sigh, knowing you needed to make sure before you decided to jump toward any adventure that might get you into trouble.

You sat on the bed while you waited for the laptop to boot up and grabbed the journal. Deciding whether or not you should take a peek, try to see if there was any sort of entry that you might have missed. After staring at it for a few moments, you got the courage and snatched it up, flipping through the pages. You scanned over the same passages over again, beginning to grow frustrated from the same ones about hunting you didn’t care to give much thought. As you began to come toward the end, you heard something softly drop toward the laptop. Furrowing your eyebrows, you peeked up from the journal to see what it was.

You looked to see the picture you had stuffed away was sitting there, it must have fallen out during your search. You never remembered stuffing in into the journal, but that thought died when you reached over and picked up the photo. You examined it for the longest time, reading the sentence sketched in the bottom so many times, you were beginning to taunt yourself with the idea that it could really be true. Would she really do it? You wondered if she really would against everything she was taught to believe so she could have some normalcy in her life. In her journal, she always talked about how much she loved the life, but settling down was never a possibility because of her medical history and hunter lifestyle.

You began to think; if she did do such a thing, deals would only allow someone ten years to live. And there was no way the demon would have granted her more time, considering their infamous history together, she had to plead for the time. But she died when you were sixteen, that was too much time for someone to be able to run from the past, no matter how much knowledge she had to fend off a hellhound. You could feel your eyes roam toward the picture. Unless, someone threw another soul into the deal, that’s twenty years right there. You could feel your lips stretch into a snarling frown. Give two toward the lovely husband, keep the rest for selfish mother, for the knowledge to know her child wouldn’t end up like her. Even with the last moments of death, she was still controlling your entire future.

The tips of your fingers were beginning to grow white from knuckling the comforter, you needed something to keep the temper that began to boil inside of you. There was no way she would have gone that far, ditch all of her morals and create a child because she wanted to feel normal. People make deals to want fame, fall in love with someone they’ll never have—not to kill their husband and make a baby. You tried to get yourself to calm down by taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. You weren’t going to allow yourself to sink this low into an idea that might not even be real. But you couldn’t help yourself, the anger was getting the best of you.

Before you could think about the consequences, you reached for the journal that you’d dropped and grabbed the pages, frantically tearing them apart, trying to get the last traces of the woman you had knew. Because everything she wrote about wanting to save people, hunt the evil things, was one big, fat lie now. You worked through the tears that were making your vision blurry, you gritted your teeth and used all the strength inside your body to get every last page destroyed into nothing more than just tiny pieces. After a few minutes, you stopped tearing when you realized there was nothing left. But you were still angry.

You glanced over at the mirror to look at your reflection; redden cheeks from the frustration, chest heaving up and down, you suddenly couldn’t stand looking at yourself, knowing where you came from made your skin crawl in disgust. Reaching for whatever that was closest, you grabbed some heavy decoration from the nightstand and swung it at the dresser mirror. You watched as it hit the middle of the mirror, spiderweb cracks spread quickly, making a million more fractions of yourself appear, taunting you for what you really were.

The motel door swung open without even a warning that someone was on the other side; you quickly turned your head to see it was Sam, looking concerned when he heard all the noises coming from the room next to his own. When he caught sight of the mess that you had made, you saw his face drop into empathy, knowing that today was nothing more than stressful for the both of you. He took a step inside the room, but you were quick to yell at him to leave, wanting to be alone from anyone with the last name Winchester. He ignored your protests and closed the door behind him, watching as you headed toward the bed and plopped yourself down with your back turned toward him.

“Y/N?” Sam called out your name, breaking the silence after a few moments.

“Go away.” You mumbled at him, trying to keep your sniffles toward a minimum. You flinched slightly when you heard the noise echo through the room, making it known you were crying. When you didn’t hear footsteps, you rolled your eyes. “God, can’t either one of you just leave me alone for five minutes?”

“Clearly not.” Sam said. His eyes roamed from the tattered pieces of paper that seemed to have been everywhere toward the broken mirror. Letting out a quiet sigh, he slowly walked over toward the bed, taking a seat at the edge when you didn’t say anything to stop him. “Look, Y/N,” He spoke up again after a small pause in time, he tried to pick his words just right, trying his hardest to get you to open up. “What Dean said…I don’t know if it’s true or not, but—”

“You can say it, Sam.” You whispered, looking over your shoulder to stare at him. “I’m a freak.”

Sam couldn’t help himself but smile the slightest, you gave him a dirty look from how he was acting. “I can call you a lot of things, but you’re not a freak. Okay?” He shifted his tone toward a serious one as he continued talking. “Look, a lot of things were said, and these past few weeks haven’t been easy on all of us. But Y/N, you can’t self destruct like this. You’re going to hurt yourself—”

“Or someone.” You cut him off, knowing that could have been the thought he was trying to dance around.

“Y/N, you’re talking to someone who has visions of people’s deaths before it happens. My own father wants me dead if I ‘get worse’ and Dean is supposed to do that. And…And there’s more people like me out there.” You and Sam stared at one another for a few moments when he finished his thoughts. A small fraction of a smile began to creep along your lips, knowing if you told this toward a normal person, it would have sounded nothing more than just gibberish. “Man, our lives are weird.”

“You’re telling me.” You mumbled, turning around so you were now facing him. You thought about something for a few moments before looking back up at Sam, knowing it was better to give a warning. “I know this is probably the stupidest thing, but…I can’t stay here, Sam. I need to know if what Dean said is true. If I don’t, it’s going to kill me.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“What? Sam—”

“Y/N, you’re not the only one with questions. And I think I know where we can start. Besides,” Sam said, giving you a playful smirk. “I don’t think you would survive a minute out there on your own.” You couldn’t help yourself but let out a much deserve laugh, playfully punching the man in the shoulder for his comment.

\+ + +

“Son of a bitch.” Dean growled underneath his breath. He stood in the doorway of your motel room, one of his hands firmly wrapped around the door handle and the other on his hip. Someone would have mistaken the scraps of paper that were torn apart and the broken mirror as a sign of a struggle, but he knew well enough that you’d lost your temper, making it impossible to explain this one and no chance of getting that deposit back. “They ditched me? Little friggin’ brats. That’s what they are.” He muttered, slamming the door shut behind him and stepped out toward the parking lot, heading toward his car.

“I told them this was a bad idea. But does anyone listen to me anymore? Of course, not. And she thinks she knows everything.” Dean continued on complaining to no one, slipping himself inside the car and roughly slamming the door shut. “I even said please. How many times do you hear me say that? Never.”

He grabbed his cell phone and began punching in Ellen’s number, having a feeling that’s where the both of you would have run off toward. When he pressed it toward his ear and heard the familiar rings, deep down, he just wanted to know the both of you were safe. Well, until he got on his hands on you.

\+ + +

Stepping inside the Roadhouse, famous for a public place where hunters spent to enjoy a beer a plan out their next hunt, suddenly didn’t like such a good idea from what you had previously learned not even a full day ago. You knew it was the pariona, and probably the large coffee you’d finished off after stopping for gas, that was making you feel as if everyone was staring when walking into the bar. Well, they were. Hunters were very territorial people; they didn’t like outsiders or anything the slightest bit off, making them think there was something about their You clenched your jaw and focused ahead, following behind the taller man that stood in front of you as the both of you wandered up toward the bar, where you saw a very familiar face, Ellen.

Last time everyone was in a room together, she was getting ready to scowl you and her daughter. But you noticed that she didn’t seem so surprised to see the both of you, she just turned her attention away from the man she was talking to and focused on you, a smile spread across her lips when Sam politely stepped forward and said hello, knowing the two of them weren’t exactly on good speaking terms. After all, he was just part of the reason why the woman’s daughter had decided to throw her life away in hunting, you suddenly hoped Jo had kept her lips shut about the long talk the both of you had during the hunt you’d worked with her on.

‘Sam, Y/N.” Ellen greeted the both of you, looking up from the glass she was drying with a rag.

“Hey, Ellen.” Sam said, letting a smile spread across his face. Seeing the woman nonchalant about the unexpected visit wasn’t something either one of you had suspected. Maybe a little frown or disapproving glare, but she just kept drying, giving nothing more than a calm stare. “You don’t seem so surprised to see us.”

“Your brother’s been calling, looking for you two.” She said, leaning over to put the cup back in place. You glanced over at Sam, running your tongue on your bottom set of teeth, knowing the oldest brother was probably pissed out of his mind from the absence. And this would be one of the few places he would think to check out first.

“Yeah.” You looked back at the woman, shrugging your shoulders. “We figured he might.”

“What’s going on between you three?” She asked. You flinched at the thought of the last words you spoke to the man before parting ways with the man. You didn’t exactly want to bring up the reason why you were here either, so, you decided to bring up someone else that quickly crossed your mind with not much thought of the last time seeing her and the events that’d taken place.

“So, um, how’s Jo?” You changed the subject, taking a step so you were leaning against the bar top.

Ellen shook her head and looked down at the wood for a few moments, you could see a small smile, the kind you would give to someone when they weren’t clear on a situation. “Well, I don’t really know.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, now standing next to you.

“I haven’t seen her in weeks.” Ellen answered. She kept herself busy by doing small tasks, you knew she was still angry at the three of you, but she wouldn’t let it show. “She sends a postcard every now and then.”

“Well, what happened?” You asked, giving the woman a concerned look.

“Well, after she worked that job with you three, she decided she wanted to keep on hunting. I said, 'Not under my roof,’ and she said 'fine.'” Ellen explained. You and Sam quickly glanced over at one another, guilt was beginning to creep in your facial expressions, knowing this was partly your own fault for pushing her into a lifestyle her mother never approved of, knowing the fatal mistake with her husband. Sam let out a sigh, giving the woman a small, sheepish sort of smile.

"So I’m probably the last person you want to see right now.”

Ellen chuckled to herself, shaking her head at the man. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I wish I could blame the hell out of you boys. It would easier.” Ellen admitted, but she looked at the man standing in front of her and gave him a sincere smile. “The truth is, it’s not your fault. Sam, none of it is. I want you to know that I forgave your daddy a long time ago…for what happened to my Bill. I just don’t think he ever forgave himself.”

“What did happen?” Sam couldn’t help himself but ask.

Ellen’s eyes wandered over toward you, wondering if you had told either one of them for what happened, you slowly shook your head. Never would be the one to break that kind of story. You had kept it buried, not even thinking about the event she told you as a scare tactic to stop you from hunting. If Sam was going to learn, he would have to know from the widow. Ellen thought about it for a few moments, but she quickly brushed it off, shaking her head a bit before changing the subject all together. “So, um,” She seemed a bit confused with her train of thought, but she managed to get herself back together before it all spilled out. “Why did you come here, sweetie?”

“We need your help.” You said, flashing her a small smile. “Is Ash around?”

Sure enough, the genius was still finding the Roadhouse as his home. You managed to lure him out with the promise of buying him a round, even though it had to be just close toward the afternoon. But it was five o'clock somewhere, and you needed his help more than ever. “So, what am I looking for, Sam?” Ash asked. The four of you were off in a quiet part of the bar, making sure nobody could eavesdrop on the conversation. You weren’t really in the mood to explain anything.

"Other people, other…” Sam trailed off for a moment, making sure the coast was clear before finishing his sentence. “Psychics like me. As many as possible, and I need a nationwide search.”

“But I thought there was no way to track them all down.” Ellen said, knowing with the last one you’d met, he didn’t fit into the pattern. “Not all of them had nursery fires like you did.”

“Well, no,” Sam said, but it was the only lead any of you seem to have at the moment. And it was the best chance at finding more. “But some had to. Start there.”

Ash nodded his head; with the command in place, you watched as he headed back toward his lair to work, but you quickly followed behind, making sure that there was nobody around. You reached a hand inside your back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper you’ve been keeping there since leaving last night. “Hey,” You called out, just loud enough for him to hear you and stop in his tracks. Looking over your shoulder, you made sure Sam and Ellen were far enough away before diverting your attention toward the man standing in front of you. “Here. I need you to do some, well, personal search.”

You handed over the piece of paper toward his stretched out, waiting hand. Ash unfolded it and read the name, when he recognized who it was, you could see the confusion written across his face, wondering what you needed about this person. “I need a full medical history report, no shortcuts. I’ll buy you a six month’s supply of your favorite beer if you do this.” You explained. “And please, don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Because if you do, I’ll make sure that threat Jo told you during the hunt I worked with her into a reality. Understand?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Ash luckily went along with your request, shoving the paper back into his pocket. “I do like my—”

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a smile, quickly cutting him off before he could finish that thought you didn’t want to hear.. “Thanks again, Ash. You’re the best.”

\+ + +

Since you weren’t sure how long it was going to be for Ash to do his research along with your own personal request, you and Sam had been hanging at the bar, enjoying a drink and small conversation between the both of you. As you took another sip, your eyes wandered toward the back of the bar when you heard another familiar voice come out from his hiding space, waving around a piece of paper that had something messy written down in blue ink. “Done..and done.” Ash declared, heading up toward where you were sitting, getting himself comfortable on the empty bar stool to show the both of you what he found.

“That was fast.” Sam said, seeming surprised, knowing it was just less than an hour the man started the research he thought would have taken just a bit longer.

“Well, apparently, that’s my job. Make the monkey dance.” Ash said. You put the cup toward your lips again, trying to keep yourself from cracking the slightest smile, knowing it would have been wrong to find it amusing from what he had just said.

"Just tell us what you got, Ash.” Ellen mumbled, rolling her eyes at the man’s dramatic behavior.

“Four folks hit the profile nationwide. Born in '83, mother died in a nursery fire, the whole shebang.” Ash explained toward the three of you, but the results wasn’t what your or Sam were expecting. You had hoped there was just at least a few more that would have made this a lot easier, but of course, this job was never easy. Demons really didn’t like keeping a pattern, they liked making your lives a living hell.

“Four? That’s it?”

“Sam Winchester from Lawrence, Kansas,” Ash began to read off from the list, his eyes averting up for a moment to stare at the man standing in front of him before continuing to read, “Max Miller from Saginaw, Michigan,” Dead. Gunshot wound to the head. “Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma,” Alive, and hopefully, well. You perked your attention up when you heard someone new pop into the list. “And another name—Scott Carey.”

“What? You got an address?” Sam questioned, reaching for the piece of paper that Ash mindlessly tossed toward the bar top. He straightened it out and tried to make sense of the man’s messy handwriting.

“Kind of.” Ash said, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, wondering what he meant by that kind of answer. But your face dropped when he told you the man’s current known living place, which was six feet under the ground. “The Arbor Hills Cemetery in Lafayette, Indiana. Plot 486.”

“So he’s dead?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask the unfortunate question.

“Killed about a month ago.”

“Killed how?”

“Stabbed. Parking lot.” Ash answered, you let out a sigh from the sudden turn in events for the man nobody seemed to have some coming “Fuzz don’t have much—no suspects.”

“All right. Thanks.” Sam said, giving the man a nod for all of his handwork. You watched as he left his half empty drink to go to waste, but you could tell Ash wasn’t the type to let a good beer go to waste. You let out a small chuckle when you saw him reach for the cup and take a sip, not even caring about the look you gave him from his bold move. When you caught sight of Ellen distracting the youngest brother, you turned your attention toward the man still sitting in front of you.

“So,” You leaned over a bit so you could whisper just loud enough for him to hear you. “You find anything?”

Ash lifted himself off the seat just enough to reach a hand behind to pull out a thick pile of papers he’d clipped together, you could feel your lips twitch into a smile at what you had in front of you. “As you command—all the medical history of an Ella Y/L/N. Birth until death.” You picked up the papers and flipped through them, seeing that he had gotten his hands on almost everything imaginable; almost every checkup your mother had, certificates and what not. But your attention was ripped away when you heard Ash speak up again. “Everything you wanted to know about her is in that pile. Well, everything, except for one report.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked up at him. “What was it that you couldn’t find?”

“Something that was labeled as classified. The hospital has the files wrapped up pretty tight.” Ash said. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a sigh, knowing that it could have been your answer toward all of this confusion and mess. Thankfully, Ash seemed up for the challenge. “But don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll have it to you in…twenty or so hours. I would have it sooner, but—"”

“Thank you, but I really don’t want to hear about your personal life.” You mumbled, shaking your head and putting up a hand to keep him from saying anything else. You grabbed a pen from the table and scribbled down a phone number and handed it over to the man. “Here’s my number. Call me if you have any bumps in the road. I have a friend who’s pretty tech savvy when it comes to breaking into computers. He helped me hack into a police database for an old case, so I think he could help you out a bit.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for that kind of girl.” Ash said, seeing a smirk grow.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” You whispered, giving him a playful wink. “I’ll tell you about it over drinks if you keep your lips shut until then. Sound good?” With the handshake to seal the deal, you turned your attention toward the youngest brother, who was staring at you with curiosity. You just grabbed the papers and tucked them into your side, giving the man you passed a smile before heading out the door.

The next stop on the list, Indiana.

\+ + +

“You said you went to highschool with Scott?” Mr. Carey asked. You and Sam were sitting in the living room of the deceased Scott. You had tracked down a home address to see if the both of you could find some more history on this man. You were greeted with his father, who still seemed broken up about his only son’s death, you could tell he was more comfortable opening up toward a few of Scott’s old buddies from school. All though lying to a man who was at his weakest point in life was never fun, you just nodded your head and rubbed your hands nervously together.

“Uh, yes, sir, we did.” Sam answered for the both of you, nodding his head. He was always the best at getting people to open up. There was just something about Sam that seemed to make everyone feel at ease, he could get almost anyone to tell him their darkest secrets. Maybe it was because nobody ever seemed to listen anymore, but he always did. “We just heard what happened. And we’re so sorry.”

"Scotty was a good boy. He changed a lot since you two knew him.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, concern in your tone.

“It started about a year ago with these headaches.” Mr. Carey started to explain, you and Sam had knew what was coming next. “Then he got depressed, paranoid—nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” Sam asked, seeming to have found that as an interesting point. You gave him a look, quietly motioning for him to take the excitement down a few notches if he wanted to know more about this man. “Um, did he ever talk to you about his nightmares—what he saw?”

“No, no, he closed up on me.” Mr. Carey admitted. You could see that he was still guilty from the outcome, with his son’s depression, but you knew it wasn’t his fault at all. “I tried to get him help, but nothing took. He’d just…lock himself in his room for days.”

“You think, maybe, we could see his room?”

Mr. Carey stared at you for a few moments, you knew it was rough losing someone, it took you almost a few years before you got the courage and moved out your mother’s belongings so you could get the carpet and walls replaced. But the man seemed to have been okay with it after Sam jumped into the conversation, saying it was about as a way to handle the grief of this situation. Promising that you would keep everything as it was, you and Sam stepped into the deceased’s man’s room. You stepped in first and flicked on the lights toward the bedroom, which looked pretty basic for a twenty-something boy that still lived at home; an unmade bed, a shelf of books and different classic movies, and even a few trophies.

You walked over toward the dresser when you caught sight of at least five different prescription bottles, Sam followed behind to see what you had found. Letting out a quiet whistle, this boy was well taken care of. You turned your attention away from the dresser when you caught sight of the closet, and knowing anyone, that’s where the real secrets were hidden away. With your back turned toward the other man, you didn’t seem to notice Sam sneak the bottle of pills for sleeping, quietly shoving them into his pocket without making too much noise for you to notice.

You swung open the doors, looking around as a light switched on, quite convenient as you snooped around through the wrinkled clothes and shirts messily hung up. But there was something hiding on the wall that caught your attention. Furrowing your eyebrows in curiosity, you shoved the hangers straight through the middle to see what it was. You were expecting to see something along the lines of naked girls or some weird shrine for torture, but this—this was far worse.

“Sam.” You manage to whisper out, your attention kept on the dozens of yellow eyes that were staring at you, all plastered down the wall, covering it completely. You swallowed, overtaken by them, just staring at you. It seemed that Scott was quite the artist, after all. He sure knew how to capture the evil in the demon’s eyes.

\+ + +

When the both of you made it back toward the motel, it was late at night. You headed up first with the room key dangling in your hand with Sam following behind slowly. All you kept thinking about was getting into some pajamas and calling it a day, knowing these past few haven’t been easy. And sleep hasn’t exactly been on the agenda. As you shoved the key into the lock, you stopped yourself from turning it when you heard unfamiliar footsteps beginning to approach from behind. Before you knew it, Sam quickly turned around and grabbed the stranger from behind, slamming them into the wall. You saw that it was just a woman, who seemed more frightened about what was happening than the both of you, she shook from the attack she didn’t see coming.

“Please.” She managed to whisper out in a timid voice. “You’re in danger.”

“Well, and here I thought things couldn’t get any better.” You mumbled underneath your breath. You shoved the key inside the lock and turned it, swinging open the glass door. Gesturing with a hand, you gave the woman a warm smile. “Come on in. We can talk in privacy in here.”

It seems that a psychic had found her way toward the both of you; she tried to explain what was going on without sounding like a fool. You leaned yourself against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, knowing well enough she wasn’t lying, but it was sort of amusing to see her squirm and try to explain everything. "Okay, look, I know how all of this sounds, but I am not insane, and I’m not on drugs.” She announced again, slowly pacing around the room. “Okay, I am normal, and this is way, way off the map for me.”

“All right, all right, just—just calm down, okay?” Sam finally spoke up, trying to get the woman stay in one place for more than a second. “What’s your name?”

“Ava. Ava Wilson.”

“Ava, I’m Sam Winchester, all right? This is Y/N Y/L/N.” Sam introduced the both of you, getting the first name basis out of the way before cracking down on the important details. “Now, you were telling us about these dreams of yours?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, okay,” Ava mumbled, becoming nervous again before she started. “About a year ago, I started having these, like headaches, and just…nightmares, I guess. And I really didn’t think much of it until I had this one dream where I saw this guy get stabbed in the parking lot.”

You and Sam quickly glanced over at one another, knowing who the victim could have been from the suspicion you had about this woman. “When was this?” You asked her.

“Uh, about a month ago. But anyway, a couple of days later…I found this.” Ava dug inside her bag to pull out a newspaper article she clipped out. Sam grabbed it from her as you took a step forward to see what she had found. “I saw this guy die days before it happened.” Your eyes glanced up from the article to at her when she admitted that. “I don’t know why. I don’t know. For some reason, my dreams are coming true, and last night I had another one.”

“Okay.”

“About you.” Ava admitted her attention focused on Sam. “I saw you die.”

You stared at the woman with a partly opened mouth, not exactly seeing that kind of twist coming from her. “How did you find us?” You questioned, giving her a serious look as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were making sure to watch this woman a bit more closely now.

“Oh, uh, he had motel stationary,” She said, pointing toward the pad of paper that sat on top of the TV. “And I googled the motel, and it was real, and so I thought I should warn…you.”

Sam let out a breath, still seemed to have either been in shock from either finding out that he was going to die in someone else’s vision, or perhaps it was because he found someone else that was just like him. “I don’t believe this.”

“Oh, oh, of course you don’t.” Ava muttered out, throwing her hands up partly into the air as she began to wander around the motel room again. “You think I’m a total nutjob.”

“No, no, no. I mean,” Sam broke himself from his concentration, seeming to have jumped the gun from his excitement of finding someone like him, it didn’t take him long before he started sounding like the mental case. “You must be one of us. Well, like me.”

“Sorry, one of—one of whom?” Ava asked, giving the man a bewildered look from his talk.

“One of the psychics, like me.” Sam started to explain, you shook your head in disapproval when you caught sight of the other woman’s face. He was starting to make himself look like someone who wore an aluminum hat and claimed things that someone would find in some old X Files episode. “Look, Ava, I have these visions, too, all right? So—So we’re connected.”

Ava just laughed at what he was saying, still finding herself in denial of everything that was happening all at once. "Okay, so…you’re nuts.” She mumbled, cracking a smile. “That’s great.”

“Did your mother happen to die in a house fire…or at all?” You asked, giving her a curious look.

“No,” She said, nw looking at you like you were the crazy one, “my mom lives in Palm Beach.”

“So you don’t fit the pattern, either.” You muttered underneath your breath. When you caught sight of her scrunched up face, you let out a breath of annoyance from this situation. You ran your fingers through your hair as you watched Sam shrug off his jacket and throw it on his bed, obviously knowing this wasn’t going to be easy to explain, if he wanted to get that deep just yet.

“Why can’t you just leave town, please,” Ava tried to convince the man when he sat down on the bed. You couldn’t help yourself but chuckle at her odd set of words. But no matter what she tried to do, there was no way Sam was going to break that easy. “Before you blow up?”

“No, I can’t.” Sam said for the second time.

“Oh, God. Why not?”

“Because there’s something going on here, Ava, with you, with me.” Sam started explaining, hoping this wouldn’t frighten the woman away again. “I mean, there are others like us out there, and we’re all part of something, and I’ve got to figure out what.”

“Okay, you know what?” Ava slapped her hands on her knees and pushed herself up into a standing position, obviously becoming annoyed with continued talk of things that seemed crazy to her. “Screw you, buddy. Okay, 'cause I’m a secretary from Peoria, and I’m not part of anything. Do you see this?” She lifted up her left hand to flash off a rather pretty diamond ring. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling envious of what she had. “I’m getting married in eight weeks. I am supposed to be at home, addressing invitations, which I am way behind on, by the way. But instead, I drove out here to save your weirdo ass. But if you just want to stay here and die, fine. Me? I’m due back on planet Earth.”

And with that speech said, she snatched her bag from the bed and started storming her way toward the motel door. When you looked at Sam, you spoke up next. “Don’t you want to know why this is happening?” You asked her. Her answer was when she stopped walking. “I mean, don’t these visions scare the hell out of you? 'Cause if you walk out that door right now, you might never know the truth.” You gave Ava the smallest smile when she turned around to face you, knowing that she was hooked. “We need your help.”

\+ + +

“So, Miss Y/L/N, you’re new in town?” Dr. Waxler, who was Scott’s psychologist, asked you.

The both of you sat in his office after you made an appointment this morning to see him. It was quite comfortable looking, more modern than the last psychologist you’d been to, which seemed like ages ago when you thought about it. Thankfully you didn’t need to ask for any history, that was Sam’s job. Ava somehow had gotten around toward the idea of being the lookout after she backed out of this one, a simple job she could at least handle if something went wrong.

“That’s right.” You said, nodding your head.

“And what made you decide to seek out therapy?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly been feeling myself lately.” You lied, playing the part you’d quickly rehearsed in your mind. “I just feel super anxious, on edge.”

“Okay,” He said, “Anything else?”

You opened your mouth to explain,but when you turned your attention toward the window, you could feel your eyes pop open in fright at what you saw. Sam decided to be a daredevil, slowly maneuvering himself across the building, not realizing there was a pretty steep fall that could kill him if he somehow lost his balance “Holy crap!” You hissed, clenching your fingernails into your palm. Just the thought of looking down that below sent a rush of anxiety through your body.

“What?” Dr. Waxler questioned, turning his attention toward the window. But when he saw that nobody was there, he looked back at you with concern. You gaped at the man for a few moments, still dazed from what had just happened.

“Uh, I just remembered,” You mumbled out some story an old friend had told you they had done once during her own childhood for some science experiment that sent her to the guidance counselor office. You wondered if it could work here. “When I was a kid, I swallowed, like, eight things of pop rocks, and then drank a whole can of coke. You don’t think that counts as a suicide attempt, do you?”

\+ + +

Ava was the first one to step back inside the motel room; she seemed to be in a slight daze when you followed behind her. You could hear her heavy breathing when passing her by, Sam didn’t seem to have noticed anything strange, his attention in the files he manage to sneak. When you saw Ava place a hand on her chest, you gave her a concerned look. “You okay?” You asked her.

She turned around, “Am I okay?” You slowly nodded your head. “I just helped you two steal some dead guy’s confidential psych files. I’m awesome!”

You couldn’t help yourself but smile, finding her enthusiasm a bit refreshing. But when you heard your phone ringing, you pointed up a finger at the both of them, knowing who it could be. “I have to step out. Why don’t the both of you get started and fill me in later?” You asked, giving Sam a quick smile, brushing off his looks that he was giving you. You just excused yourself again, knowing that it was Ash, you wandered out toward the motel parking lot, far enough away from any wandering eyes to peep into the conversation. You finally answered the phone on the last ring. “Hello?”

“About time, woman. Some of us don’t got all day.”

“Good afternoon to you, too, Ash.” You muttered, rolling your eyes at his attitude toward you. “Get anything?”

“Matter of fact, I dd. The classified file that was under tight security—had it taken down in just a few minutes. New personal record.” The man said, you let out a quiet sigh, not really in the mood to hear any of this. “Anyway, I found that this kind of documents you would find in a clinic. And boy, was this a crazy ride to read.”

“What? What did you find out?”

“Your mamma sure wanted kids. Tried almost everything they had. All though, all of them ended in miscarriages. Course, medicine wasn’t what is was back in the eighties.” Ash said. You could feel your heart skip a beat. “Doctors made note she was diagnosed with some condition that wouldn’t allow her body to carry a child full term. Could never explain why. All though, she had you, and the pregnancy seemed normal. Someone made a note that it was like—”

“A miracle happened, yeah, I heard that line a million times.” You muttered in frustration. This wasn’t good, this wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Look, thank you for doing this for me. Just remember our deal, got it?”

“Got it.”

You let out a breath and shut the phone, roughly shoving it back inside your back pocket. As you ran your fingers through your hair from the lack of luck that seemed to have been happening, you didn’t seem to know that it was just about to get a lot worse. You turned around to go back inside the motel room, but you didn’t seem to notice someone sneaking up behind you before it was too late. You let out a slight scream when you felt someone grab a hold of your shoulders. But before they could do anything, you quickly took your elbow and slammed it roughly against their stomach, just enough to hear them groan from the unexpected blow. You quickly turned around and jumped them, stumbling around until the both of you were lying on the pavement.

As you reached up an arm to take another swing, you caught sight of a familiar set of green eyes, and if that was enough, they roughly grabbed a hold of your wrists to keep you from moving. When you realized who you were straddling at the waist on the hard ground, everything seemed to have become a bit more awkward. He found you, after all.

“Dean?”

\+ + +

You barely had your mouth open for less than a second when you let out out a wince when you felt your back roughly hit the pavement, hearing something being shouted from Dean to shut up and staying out of sight for the moment. He was now hovering over you, eyeing something from above the building that you were just a foot away from while lying down. You furrowed your eyebrows at what was keeping his attention so focused on, but when you looked up, you could feel your eyes beginning to grow wide at the bullet you literally dodged. If you were standing there just a moment ago, there was a definite chance you’d be dead from a gunshot wound to the brain.

Looking back at Dean, you gave him a worried glance from what had just happened, he gave you a weak smirk, knowing that he was right from the last conversation the both of you shared. You rolled your eyes and roughly shoved his body off yours, hearing the silence echo through the air. But you were still cautious, just in case whatever had nearly ended your life still was feeling a bit trigger and decided to continue practice with you as easy bait. When you peeked out from the corner, you took a quick sweep of the place to see who could have been causing this chaos. You squinted just hard enough at a figure lying on his stomach, you leaned in a bit farther to caught sight of who it was. But when you recognized the face, you could feel yourself grow with fear at who you and Dean were up against. He was like a cockroach, he kept coming after beating him down, thinking he was dead or just smart enough to harass someone else. 

You nearly bashed your skull against the wall of the building you were now sitting up against when you caught sight of the hunter you’d left tied up for almost four days before calling someone to set him free. It seemed that he was still pissed about that. Gordon was something else, and boy, he did he leave a memory that you couldn’t shake off, even to this day. He was almost as worse as the monsters he killed, going after anything that seemed just the slightest off. You nervously gulped, knowing that he’d had it out for you from the moment you and him were alone in a room together. It seemed that he wanted to finish business.

“H—He’s back.” You managed to stutter out, trying to catch the breath you’d lost from the fight that had happened. Dean furrowed his brows, not exactly in the mood for the pronoun game to see who wanted to kill you today. In one breath, you said the familiar hunter’s name. “Gordon Walker. The stupid son of a bitch is back.” When you saw the man try and take a peek for himself, you quickly shoved him against the wall so he wasn’t in range. “Jesus, get back! Do you want him to blow your brains out?”

A minute or so passed by until you saw Dean take action, knowing the man, he was going to head straight first into danger. You knew from the look that he gave you was a quiet request for you to stay still until the coast was clear. Biting your bottom lip as a nervous habit to keep yourself quiet, you watched from the corner of your eye as he snuck around the opposite corner from where you had stuck out like a sore thumb. Part of you knew that if Gordon was feeling a bit trigger happy to be taking aim at you, the thought of another set of easy targets made your stomach twist into knots, knowing you had no way of giving them a warning of what was happening before it was too late. All you could do was sit here and wish that your suspicion was wrong.

You counted down from five minutes in your head before you got the courage to take a peek out yourself and see what was going on when Dean wasn’t back. Sucking in a deep, long breath, you pushed yourself up from the ground and headed off toward the direction where you last seen Dean. You used the buildings you passed as a way to keep yourself hidden for the moment away before you could figure out how to get everyone toward safety. But nothing more than frustration seemed to have been on your mind when you accidentally took a wrong turn in the maze of things, cornering yourself like an idiot you were.

The stress of everything must have been making your mind a bit hazy to think properly. But some people liked to take advantage of a perfect situation. Before you could even turn around, you felt something hard hit the back of your head, just rough enough to make darkness be the only thing that you saw for a while, until you until you woke up. That’s when the real fun would begin.

\+ + +

You didn’t know how long you were out from losing consciousness but you knew that the back of your head was pounding. You kept your eyes shut for a moment when the pain began to feel worse after you rose from the sleep. Barely being awake for more than a minute, you forced yourself up into a straighter position when you found yourself leaning forward, your lower back muscles screamed in pain from the sudden change, but you worked through it until you were a bit more comfortable. You tried to lift up your hands to clutch your head, but you felt your wrists pinned into place with some pretty sturdy, along with your legs. Letting out a frustrated groan, you knew that the worse scenario happened when you heard the click of the safety on a gun go off and the barrel was pressed toward the side of your head as a warning to stay silent.

Turning your gaze toward the familiar face, you gave Gordon the death glare when you realized you weren’t alone. Dean was beside you, in the same position; tied to a chair and not exactly pleased at what was happening. But before either one of you could say anything, you heard a cell phone go off, which you recognized as the older brother’s from the tone. Gordon flipped it open and pressed it toward Dean’s ear, knowing that the gun toward your head and the hunter’s finger on the trigger, was a warning that he wasn’t afraid to finish what he started. “Hello?”

“Dean.” Relief flooded through your mind when you heard Sam’s voice on the the other line.

“Sam, I’ve been looking for you.” Dean said, acting as if everything was normal.

“Yeah, look, I’m in Indiana with Y/N.” Sam said. “Lafayette.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I talked to Ellen. I just got here myself. I even bumped into Y/N, by some chance. It’s a real funky town.” Dean said, you looked at him from the corner of your eye when he mentioned that code word you were told to say if a situation where someone had a gun to your head, sort of like now. “You ditched me, Sammy.”

"Yeah, I’m sorry. Look,” Sam’s voice changed a little bit, but she still seemed to pretend that he didn’t know what was going on. “Right now, there’s someone after me.”

“What? Who?” Dean pretend to ask, but you saw him look up at Gordon.

"I don’t know. That’s what we need to find out.” Sam said. “Where are you?”

“I’m staying at 5637 Monroe Street.” Dean said, you let out a quiet scoff. This was exactly the vision that Ava had. And you were letting him step right into the trap. You just hoped he was somehow smart enough to avoid the situation. “Why don’t you meet us here?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Knowing there was confirmation that the other brother was coming, Gordon shut the phone and dropped the gun back toward his side, allowing your body to ease up just a bit without having to worry about being a target again. “Now, was that so hard?” He asked the other man.

“Bite me.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. Gordon didn’t respond toward the oldest Winchester’s remark, he just remained silent, heading over toward the other side of the room. You watched as he bent down to grab a duffel bag from underneath some beat up table and slam it against the top. “Gordy, I know me and Y/N ain’t exactly your favorite people, but don’t you think this is a little extreme?”

"Oh, you think this is revenge?” Gordon asked. You heard the sound of the clip of the gun he was fooling around with click back into place, making it known he had enough weapons for whatever he had planned, and you knew it wasn’t going to be used for good.

“We did leave you tied up in your own mess for three days. Which was awesome.” Dean couldn’t help himself but chuckle out at the memory, but when he caught sight of your eyes that were throwing daggers at him for the unnecessary comments, you knew it was enough to stop it at that before something worse could happen toward either one of you. "Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”

“Yeah, I was definitely planning on whupping your ass for that.” Gordon admitted, Dean hummed out a response as he nodded his head. “That’s not what this is. This isn’t personal. I’m not a killer, Dean. I’m a hunter.” You couldn’t help yourself but let out a small laugh at that kind of answer, knowing in fact he was a psychopath who got off on all of this, but your mood quickly changed when you saw his head turn just the slightest. What came out of him next wasn’t what you were expecting as his excuse from hunting you like an animal. “Your brother and Y/N are fair game.”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t an animal.” You hissed at the man, watching as he grabbed something that resembled a hunting rifle. You could see a smile twitch at the end of his lips at your response from what he had just said, as if you weren’t sitting in the room. "And this wasn’t hunting season.“

“Last time I checked sweetheart, you weren’t fully human.” Gordon remarked back, eyeing you with actual emotion in his eyes this time, something that you took as pleasure. You bit your tongue, keeping yourself from saying anything that might change the man’s mind at keeping you alive for much longer. He walked over toward another small table and adjusted himself so he was comfortable, you waited until he started explaining what the hell was going on. "See, I was doing an exorcism down in Louisiana. A teenage girl. It seemed routine. Some low-level demon. But between all the jabbering and the head-spinning, the damn thing muttered something about a coming war.”

You shifted yourself just enough at the mention of this, knowing exactly the direction this conversation was going. Gordon continued talking, “I didn’t think it meant to. It just kind of slipped out. But it was too late. It piqued my interest. And you can really make a demon talk, if you got the right tools.”

“So, what happened to the girl it was possessing?” You asked, already seeming to know the answer toward this one. Gordon didn’t cares about fatalities. He got what he wanted and a demon was back in Hell. To him, it was a win-win situation with a happy ever after.

“She didn’t make it.” He simply said, not even seeming to have any emotion in his voice.

“Well, you’re a son of a bitch.” Dean couldn’t help himself but comment on the matter, shaking his head in disapproval as he turned his attention toward something else for the moment, not seeming to notice the other man stand up and begin to walk over. From the glare that began to stretch across Gordon’s face, he didn’t find any of this amusing, and without a warning, the back of his hand collided with Dean’s cheek, making his point.

“That’s my momma you’re talking about.” He said, you rolled your eyes, like he was fazed by that rude remark. And just like that, he was back on topic, as if nothing just happened. “Anyways, this demon tells me they have soldiers to fight in this upcoming war. Humans fighting on Hell’s side. You believe that?” You knew he was talking about the children, the ones the demon had been torturing with spells of headaches, paranoia and all sorts of gifts that classified themselves as freaks toward a hunter. “I mean, they’re psychics, so they’re not exactly pure human. But still, what kind of worthless scumbag you got to be to turn against your own race?”

“Says the man who kidnapped two people and waving around a gun. In my opinion, you’re not exactly a saint in this kind of situation.” You remarked, giving the man standing in front of you a look with an eyebrow cocked up. “Oh, but please continue with this with this idiotic thought. I’m curious, really, I am.”

“You know what the biggest kick in the ass?” He turned his attention toward you for a moment, a smirk grew on his lips before putting it back on the man sitting right across from you, making sure to see the reaction when he broke the news “This demon said I knew one of them—our very own Sammy Winchester.” But the response wasn’t what Gordon had intended to hear.

Dean broke out into a laugh, finding this nothing less than amusing. He composed himself for a moment to stare at the man, a grin spreading across his lips. “Well, this is—this is a whole new level of moronic, even for you.”

“Come on, Dean. I know about Sam’s visions.” Gordon said, trying to make the man crack and admit toward what he was telling him just to prove he was right. “I know everything.”

“Really? Because a demon told you?” You remarked, you licked your lips and let out a chuckle from his source of this knowledge. But deep down, you knew you were a hypocrite for saying this, because you were in the same boat. “Yeah, and it wasn’t lying.”

“Hey, Y/N, I’m not some reckless yahoo, okay? I did my homework. I made damn sure it was true.” Gordon said, you mouthed a ‘fuck you’ toward the man standing before turning your head toward the other side of the room. He let a smile spread across his lips at your bold move. “Look, you got your Roadhouse connections. I got mine. It’s how I found you and Sammy in the first place.” You turned your head back just the slightest to give him a glare, watching as he headed back toward his chair he was previously sitting on. When he spoke up again, you knew he was talking about Scott, the man that Ava had a vision about, the one that was stabbed in the parking lot. “About a month ago, I found another one of these freaks here in town. He could deep-fry a person just by touching them.”

“Yeah, good old Scott. I visited his poor father. Really broken up about what happened to his only son.” You said, trying your hardest to make the man feel guilty for what he had done, but you knew it wasn’t working. “Did he at least kill anyone to validate you murdering him?”

“Besides Mr. Tinkles the cat, no. But he was working up to it.” Gordon said. You knew well that the man could have been right about that. That Weber kid and Max were proof enough that some of these psychics were dangerous, but you kept the thought to yourself. You weren’t going to give the satisfaction toward the man that he could have been right. “They’re all gonna be killers, Dean. We got to take them all out, get rid of the evil from your life and this world once and for all. That means Sammy and Y/N, too.” To further his point, he clicked his gun into place, making sure it was loaded ready to go.

“You think Sam’s stupid enough to walk through that front door?” Dean questioned, quickly changing the subject back around at his brother, knowing he could be here at any moment’s notice, you hoped it would be soon. You could barely feel your fingers from the tightness of the rope that was beginning to cut off circulation around your hand.

“No, I don’t. Especially since I’m sure you found a way to warn him.” Gordon said, letting out a chuckle, knowing he caught on toward the codeword Dean had slipped into the conversation with his brother. “You really think I’m that stupid?” You flashed him a smirk, knowing well enough the answer was a yes. He ignored your looks, getting himself up from the chair again, knowing well enough what the younger man’s plan of action was. “No, Sammy’s gonna scope the place first, see me covering the front door. So he’s gonna take the back. And when he does, he’ll hit the tripwire. Then…” You clenched your jaw when he put the gun toward the table, turning his back toward the both of you, pulling out something that looked like a grenade. “…Boom.”

“Sam’s not gonna fall for a frickin’ tripwire.” Dean said, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

“Maybe you’re right.” Gordon said, you watched as he pulled up a back up one. The man really did think of every possible angle for this situation. “That’s why I’ll have a second one.” He walked up toward you and Dean, watching as the both of you react toward the plan he was just about to set in motion, knowing well enough there could be chance that the youngest Winchester wouldn’t make it. And once he was out of the way, you would be next. “Hey, look, I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to do this. I really do. But for what it’s worth, it will be quick.”

“Son of a bitch.” You hissed underneath your breath, gritting your teeth in anger when you watched as the man walked away leaving. You really weren’t having the best of luck this past week. “I guess third time’s really the charm.”

During the moments away from Gordon, you let yourself imagine the scenario of him getting ready to set the trap, tugging a bit too roughly on the bomb—and boom, it would blow up right in his face, killing him on the spot. Sam would come toward the rescue, saving you and his brother, another happy ending with no more chances of having to face the psychotic hunter again. But your daydreams were cut short when you heard the sound of a chair scraping against the dusty wooden floors. You turned your head enough to see Gordon swinging around a chair so he could sit on it, right between you and Dean after the traps were successfully put together without a flaw.

“Come on, man.” Dean spoke up, knowing if he couldn’t save one person, he might as well try to keep the other from facing the same fate. “I know Y/N, okay, better than anyone. She’s got more of a conscious than I do. I mean, the girl feels guilty when all those animal shelter commercials come on TV and sees all those sad puppies looking at her.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Gordon said, glancing over at you for a moment, before turning his attention back toward Dean, still acting as if you weren’t sitting right next to him. “But one day, she’s gonna be a monster. Just like I told you when we first met—there’s something off about her. And I finally figured out what it was.”

“Hello, I’m right here!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, quickly becoming annoyed from the conversation that was happening right in front of you, as if you weren’t here. “How does someone like me become a monster? Enlighten me, buddy. Please.”

“It beats me.” Gordon said, turning his head to look at you directly in the eye. You stared at him with anger, but it slowly began to shift into something else, knowing that he hit a nerve inside of you from the way he was speaking nothing but the truth you kept thinking about. “You’ll turn into the exact same kind of monster that started this entire mess.” Your face dropped into surprise when you realized he knew the dirty secret that you’d learned about just before getting yourself into this situation. He knew about your mother’s deal. “I know you will.”

“No, you don’t know that!” Dean couldn’t help himself but growl out his opinion, turning the attention back toward him. You and Gordon glanced back at the man, not expecting to hear that.

“I’m surprised at you, Dean.” Gordon commented on the man’s outburst. Dean just gave him nothing short of a glare. “Getting all emotional. I had heard you were more of a professional than this. Look, let’s say you’re cruising around in that car of yours, and, uh, you had little Hitler riding shotgun, right?” You furrowed your eyebrows when you realized this man was comparing you toward one of the worst dictators this world has ever seen. He was stupid. “Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what he was gonna turn into someday. You’d take him out.” He snapped his fingers, further trying to prove his point. “No questions, am I right?”

“That’s not Y/N.” Dean said, still not changing his mind.

“Yes, it is. You just can’t see it yet.” Gordon said, trying to win him over. When he placed his arm on the man’s shoulder to lean on him slightly, Dean threw him a look from what he was doing. Gordon dropped his arm and let out a sigh. But you could see his other arm reach up and grabbed a hold of your chin, just rough enough to make you stare at the other man sitting beside you, still trying to prove his point. “Dean. It’s her destiny. Look, I’m sympathetic. She’s your best friend. You love her like family, you want to protect her. This has got to hurt like hell for you.”

Dean kept remained silent, not even bothering to try and make sense of this anymore. You finally got yourself free from the man’s grip when he used the hand he was holding you with to lean over and grab something from the bag he’d had at his feet. You watched as he pulled out something before getting up from his chair. You didn’t think much of what it was, that was, until you could feel something like a cloth being wrapped into your mouth, he took the ends of it and tightly wrapped around your head, making sure there was no chance that you could warn the other brother from what was about to happen.

“But here’s the thing.” Gordon continued talking, making sure to do the same thing to Dean in order for this plan to happen. “It would have wrecked him, but your dad, if it really came down to it,” He took back to his seat for the moment, you rolled your eyes as a response for his continuous running mouth. “He would have had the stones to do the right thing here. So, you’re telling me you’re not the man he is?” The only response Dean could do was give the man a death glare, hoping that would be enough to kill the hunter for everything that he put the both of you through.

\+ + +

Karma could be a real bitch. You couldn’t feel your fingers anymore, the cloth between your teeth was beginning to make your jaw ache and the realization that Sam was about to step into a booby trap made you feel anxious to the point where you felt like you were going to be sick to your stomach, picturing the outcome. You listened toward any sort of creek or rustle from outside, trying to use it as a clue to figure out if he was here yet. Time dragged on, what felt like hours, was mere minutes. Gordon sat across the room with his hunting rifle close toward his side, acting as if one of you were going to make an escape, but you knew it was just for show to let it known he was in charge here. You rolled your eyes at his ego and your gaze forward for the meantime. But you quickly looked around when you heard the sound of a lock squeaking around.

“You hear him?” Gordon whispered, almost acting like he was about to enjoy what was about to happen. As you heard the door hinges echo through the abandoned home you hoped Sam was somehow smart enough to make a plan. Your fingernails dug into the armrest of the chair you were tied to when the other man spoke up again as Sam’s footsteps grew loud. “Here he comes.”

Counting down from five in your head; you closed your eyes as hard as you could, trying to keep yourself from what was about to happen next, even though you knew it was coming, nothing prepared you. A sudden boom coming from the back of you made the terrified scream that you’d been harvesting deep down escape, but only made out to be nothing more than a pitiful whimper of a sound from your gag. Your breathing was coming out in heavy pants, but this was just part one. “Hold on. Not yet.” Gordon whispered, knowing there could have been a chance the youngest Winchester was just a bit harmed from the blast. “Let’s wait and see.”

Five….four…three…two—But it was too late.

Another explosion was set off, even louder this time, making the air in the room fill up with debris and smoke, you could begin to barely breathe anymore through your nose. Your ears were ringing and your heart was thumping too loudly in your chest. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes when you made yourself turn your attention toward the other brother that was sitting right beside you. His breathing was ragged from everything that was happening all at once as his eyes were wide and glassy, turning to look at the other hunter who’d now gotten up from his spot, knowing that the dirty deed was done. “Sorry, Dean.” Was the only response Gordon seemed was appropriate enough to say, as if this was all necessary to happen.

Dean growled out something, but it came out as nothing more than muffled words, trying his hardest to break the restraints that kept him pinned in place as he watched the man slowly walk toward the back of the room. You could feel yourself beginning to lose hope in the idea that Sam could have made it out alive. A minute or so passed before you heard anything, mostly just the sounds of feet shuffling around the debris of wood and other objects destroyed from the blast. But when you heard something, a different voice, your attention perked up. You were thinking it could have been just your mind playing tricks with you from the stress of the moment, but when you heard him shout something, nothing but relief washed through you.

“Put it down now!” Sam’s voice yelled, making you and Dean look at one another.

Everything happening after that sooned seemed to have been nothing more than the sounds you couldn’t quite use to make a good picture of. All you could hear was the sounds of punches being thrown and all sorts of different noises. You tried your hardest to look around and see what was going on, but with how the house was set up, there was a wall blocking you from seeing the fight that was still going on. A second later, you felt your eyebrows furrow in concern when someone’s body dropped toward the ground. You kept trying to figure out what was going on, words were being thrown around, threats and what not, but soon, you cranked your head around just far enough to see someone you thought you would never see again.

Bruised and bloody, Sam was thankfully alive from what had happened. He wandered on through the room, slightly groaning through the pain he’d felt while walking, but he managed to make himself head over toward his brother to help get the man free his restraints. A moment later, watched as Dean got himself up from the chair and head over toward you next, working on the rope until you were free. You could feel the blood beginning to circulate through your body properly again when the rope dropped toward the ground. As you wiggled around your wrists, you could finally close your mouth properly after the cloth was thrown toward the ground. When you glanced over at the youngest brother, it didn’t take long for your protective behavior to set in from how badly he turned out from that fight.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, trying to keep the taller man stable. You knew he was itching to get his hands on the other hunter, wasting no time in trying to squeeze himself in a fight that he had been working up to all day. But Sam called out his brother’s name, shaking his head no from the plan of action. “I let him live once. I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

“Trust me.” Sam said, seeming to be more into the idea of leaving the other hunter alone from what he done. “Gordon is taken care of.”

You looked at the younger man for a moment, you bit your bottom lip, not even believing you were about to agree with this plan, knowing you wanted to see the other man dead. But Sam seemed to be on bad shape, and you weren’t going to drag him around any longer “Come on, buddy boy.” You muttered, grabbing Dean by the collar of his shirt and tugging him forward toward the front door. “Let’s go and clean you two up.” 

The three of you headed out the door; seeing that the day had shifted toward night made an unnecessary yawn slip from your mouth. A another one was about to slip through, but something more of a sudden gasp from the jump you did made it’s way out first. It rang faintly through your ears once, but the sound of it happening again made you look over your shoulder to see the sight you’d been dreading deep down. Gordon was walking out of the abandoned house with gun blazing, and just by glancing at his face, the man was pissed. You didn’t need a warning to start running fast as you could, knowing there wasn’t a chance wasn’t playing around with a gun in each hand, pulling the trigger.

All though he was shooting at your feet, he was must have been enjoying the sight of you and the brothers scurrying off into the dead of night, useless as the monsters he hunted. No weapons, not a single soul out here besides the three of you and hunter with mind full of rage—there was a chance someone could end up hurt, or worse, dead. You turned your head the slightest when you felt Sam grab your wrist, knowing that you weren’t going fast enough, compared to their legs, you needed all the help you could get, knowing you were almost half their size.

“You call this taken care of?” Dean questioned his little brother, all while trying to keep himself from getting shot at. You could see a small ditch coming up, just a decent size for the three of you to hide. You were first to jump down and crouch, the brothers following behind, but you knew it wasn’t going to be the best coverage for very long as Gordon still made his way toward the three of you, still shooting away.

“What the hell are we doing?” You hissed, throwing yourself down again when you heard the gunshots getting louder as your heartbeat began to drum in your ears from the adrenaline of everything that was happening all at once. “Sam! We’re gonna die if we don’t do something!”

“Just trust me on this.” He said, peering out again to see the commotion that was just about to unfold. You waited a few moments, and to your surprise, at least three different cop cars appeared out of nowhere; tires screeched against the blacktop of the pavement and sirens wailed, drowning out the last of the gunshots. You looked over at Sam, a smirk spreading across his lips, you shook your head and let out a quiet laugh.

“Drop your weapons! Get on your knees!” A policeman jumped out from the car and pointed his own weapon at Gordon, you could that the hunter was surrounded, knowing there was no place to go. He surrendered himself, putting his guns toward the ground and getting on his knees, placing his hands on his head as an officer came over and slapped a pair of handcuffs on him, making sure the hunter could do no more harm toward anyone. This wasn’t over yet.

The shining moment of it all was when a few other officers went over toward Gordon’s car to take an inside inspection. As they opened up the driver’s side, they had found the man’s secret stash of other tools, pulling out the long, thin metal shelf of all sorts of blades and guns. You pressed a hand toward your mouth, keeping yourself from laughing in joy of everything that was happening toward the man, just not that long ago, was going to murder Sam and you next. As they say; what goes around, comes around.

“Anonymous tip.” Sam whispered to his and his brother. You glanced over at the man, giving him a smile of approval, knowing that he had a plan all along before coming here.

“You’re a fine, outstanding citizen, Sam.” You complimented the man, giving him and a small nudge with your shoulder and a grin. “I have a feeling we won’t be seeing this prick for a long, long time.”

\+ + +

You’d never been more happier to sit down in something that wasn’t a wooden chair; your body sank down in the leather seats of the Impala, finally feeling yourself relaxing after the horrible events that passed just through the past few hours. After Dean called Ellen at the Roadhouse to let it be know none of you were dead, the three of you were back on the road, not sure if you were going to drive for a while or find a place to stay for the night. You don’t remember when you had a good night’s sleep. Between the past week, you were ready to crawl into any corner and sleep for all eternity. But your attention the moment slowly shifted over toward the youngest brother, who had been trying to contact Ava again, all though, all he was getting was her voicemail.

“Is everything alright?” You asked, leaning closer toward the front seats now.

“Yeah, I hope so.” Sam muttered, dropping his hand toward his lap.

“Well, Gordon should be reaching for the soap for the next few years, at least.” Dean said, you couldn’t help yourself but crack the tiniest smile from the comment.

“Yeah, if they pin Scott Carey’s murder on him…” Sam said, knowing the man could have been facing a longer sentence if they could somehow figure out that out. But you quickly reached up and smacked the one sitting in front of you from the comment that you didn’t need to hear. “and if he doesn’t bust out.”

The conversation died for a few moments with nothing more than the engine as being a soothing noise, but your eyes popped open from sleeping when you heard Dean speak up, and this time, his tone was dead serious. "Dude, if two ever take off like that again…“ He looked at you and Sam, giving you both a warning glance, you couldn’t help yourself but crack the smallest smile, knowing you weren’t even thinking about that. Too much happens when someone decides to go off on their own. Whether it’s a short or long period of time, something always seems to draw the three of you back together. And you were okay with that, at least, for now.

“What?” Sam asked, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You’d kill me?”

You gave the man a glare, not happy with his tasteless joke. “Shut the hell up.”

"All right.” Sam chuckled out, you rolled your eyes. “So, where to next, then?”

“One word—Amsterdam.” Dean said, you and his brother just muttered the man’s name in annoyance, finding the idea of spending time in a place like that not so exciting. “Come on, man, I hear the coffee shops don’t even serve coffee.”

“I’m not gonna just ditch the job.” Sam said, putting his own opinion in on the matter.

“Screw the job, screw it man.” Dean complained, yet again. He really seemed okay with the idea of just letting everything go without a problem. “I’m sick of the job anyway. We don’t get paid. We don’t get thanked. The only thing we get is bad luck.”

“Well, come on, you’re a hunter.” You said. “It’s what you were meant to do.”

“I don’t believe in that destiny crap.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

“You mean you don’t believe in my destiny?” Sam questioned, you let out a quiet sigh, not really wanting to hear this conversation going on again. Dean muttered something, turning his attention on the road again. “Look, Dean, I’ve tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California, and look what happened. You can’t run from this, and you can’t protect me.”

Dean glanced away from the road for a moment to look at his brother, "I can try.”

“Thanks for that.” Sam mumbled, looking back down at his lap. His brother nodded his head, both acknowledging the protection they had over one another. "Look, Dean, I’m gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever’s coming, I’m taking it head on, so if either of you really want to watch my back, then I guess you’re gonna have to stick around.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

“Well, it’s glad to know you two are back.” You couldn’t help yourself but crack a smile, knowing the infamous nicknames would arise from the dead again, not even sure when the last time you heard them call one another that. The both of them chuckled, soon letting the car fall back into silence again. But your head turned upwards when you heard the sound of the buttons of Sam’s cell phone beeping again. Now you were beginning to grow worried yourself, your tone shifting slightly. “You calling Ava again?”

“You sweet on that girl or something?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask, even cracking a small smirk from his brother’s attention on the woman.

You frowned, “She’s engaged, Dean.”

“So?” Dean asked you, you just gave him a look. “What’s the point of saving the world, if you can’t get a little nookie once in awhile.”

“Oh, please. You get enough ‘nookie’ for all of us.” You muttered, shaking your head at the man’s point of view. But when you glanced over at Sam, you caught sight of the worried look that began to stay across his face. “What?”

“Just a feeling.” Sam muttered, shrugging his shoulders, “Hey, how far is it to Peoria?”

Dean looked away from the road to give his brother a look, not sure if the man was being a serious about driving all the way down to check up on someone the both of you just met. But when he saw you and Sam just staring at him, knowing it was the right thing to do, he stepped on the gas as you started punching in direction on your phone’s GPS.

\+ + +

Ava’s car was parked in the driveway when the three of you pulled up. All though it was in the middle of the night arrived, you were beginning to become nervous yourself about what was happening. From what Sam was telling you, she seemed persistent on the idea of being contacted to make sure everyone was safe. You tried to calm your mind with the idea that she probably fell asleep while waiting by the phone. But you knew the warning sign that something bad had happened when you opened up the front door without a problem after knocking for a few minutes after nobody came toward the door. Shoving a hand inside your pocket, you pulled out your flashlight and followed behind the brothers into the pitch black house.

“Hello?” Sam called out, walking further into the house. “Is anybody here?”

You wandered around, heading straight toward what you were presuming was to be the bedroom. You headed in first, thinking you were going to find Ava passed out, cuddling her fiance in a sort of cute way. But what you discovered was something more sadistic, and too bloody to make you feel fuzzy inside. You could feel your eyes widen in fear of what you really saw; the man was alone, lying on his backside with this throat slit. Everything was covered in blood; from the soaked sheets toward the carpet. You heard Sam mumble something when he stumbled to see what the commotion was about, seeming just as taken back from the gruesome turn of events as you were.

As you heard the brothers walk around the room to see if there was any sort of clues to figure out what was going on or if Ava was still here, you found yourself stuck on the image of the man’s dead body. You wondered if the woman was okay. But when you hear Dean shout something, breaking you from your concentration, what he found made your heart skip a beat when the three of you realized who was here last. Someone you really weren’t expecting to see.

You flashed your light up from the bed to point it at Dean’s hand; he had some sort of pale,yellow substance sticking toward his fingertips. When you took a closer look to see what it was, the faint smell made your stomach twist. “Sulfur.” You muttered, biting the inside of your cheek harshly.

“The demon’s been here.” Dean said, knowing there could have been no other explanation.

You let out a quiet sigh, turning yourself around to see if you could find any sort of clues around the place. When you felt your shin collide with the bedpost, you bit your lip to keep yourself from letting out a swear word. But your attention shifted toward the sound of something like metal clinking toward the ground. Furrowing your eyebrows, you glanced down to see what it was, and when your flashlight reflected off something silver, you quickly dropped toward your knees. You gingerly picked up the ring Ava flashed at you and Sam, the only that made you feel envious about a woman who’d had someone she loved, pronounces a normal life. But now, everything had turned dark. And she was gone.

You weren’t sure if the engagement ring was some sort of sign from the demon. Maybe he was trying to tell all of his little psychics that none of you were going to be able to live normal. Because as they say, you can’t run from who you’re meant to be.


	11. Playthings.

“Shhh. You have to be quiet, Y/N. Or else he’s going to find us.” Dean whispered, his tone was nothing more than serious for a six year old. You sat on the wooden floors of the linen closet with your knees pressed to your chest and a hand squeezing your lips shut together, just tight enough to only have your breaths tickle the palm of your skin. Dean took a quick sweep of the upstairs hallway before quietly closing the door, leaving the two of you in the dark. Seeing the sunlight pour through the cracks kept either of you from being afraid and letting out a noise. 

When your eyes adjusted, you could see his face staring at you. His bottom lips was tucked underneath his front tooth, the other was missing. You wondered where it went from the last time you saw him a month ago after his long trip to some city you didn’t remembered, or cared to right now. Dean and his brother were always gone for long periods of time since their house got destroyed and Mary went away. Your mother said it was because the family likes to explore and search for adventures outside of town. But sometimes, like this past week and a half, the brothers were allowed to stay at your house while their father went on to finish an adventure by himself that was too dangerous for children to come along. All though, you had heard your mother speaking to the man that she couldn’t stand the idea of the brothers constantly being put in harm’s way because of John’s selfish behavior. 

The both of you were quiet for another moment before a small laugh slipped from your mouth, not being able to keep how much fun you were having to yourself anymore. Playing hide and seek with Sam was fun, and you knew that a two-year old was never going to find the perfect hiding spot you thought of. Dean opened his mouth to shush you, but soon enough, the both of you were having a fit of the giggles, acting like school children that had heard a funny joke.

The noise was loud enough to echo from the small closet out toward the hall, blocking out the pair of footsteps that were heading toward the door. Soon, the laughing was cut off with a surprised squeal from you and a scream from Dean, feeling an arm wrap around your body as someone lifted you up from the ground without trouble. You let out another fit of giggles when you saw it was John Winchester, back from his trip.

“Found them!” You looked down to see Sam was standing right next to his father, a grin spreading across his lips in delight when he realized he won a game against his brother and you.

“Good job, Sammy.” John said, letting a grin spread across his lips as he glanced down at his youngest son before turning his attention toward the other he was holding in his left arm. “We’re you good and helpful for Mrs Y/L/N And did you make sure your brother stayed out of trouble?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean said. You noticed that ever since he left, the oldest brother wasn’t quite himself around his father, almost like he was too afraid of saying the wrong thing around the man and be lashed out at. You were like that sometimes when your mother was angry. But John wasn’t yelling or throwing things around. He seemed happy, so why wasn’t Dean acting like that, too?

“John, did you find them?” You heard your mother’s voice echo up from the staircase, before you saw her step into the hall, a smile spread across her lips when she caught the three of you together. Her stomach flopped when she realized that since the boys’ father was back, the family would be back on the road again. But she kept herself positive, she reached over and grabbed you from John, now resting against her hip as he put down Dean on the floor. “I hope you’re hungry. I made a special dinner for tonight. And I can always make up the couch if you want to stay the night. I know there isn’t a motel for a while out of town.”

"I don’t know.” John said, a hand rubbing the back of his neck as a small, polite smile spread across his lips at the offer. As he opened up his mouth again to make up an excuse to not be more of a bother, the boys were quick to start pleading with tugs at his pant leg from each side. He looked over at you to know from the pleading look in your eyes was only adding more toward the guilt he would feel if the man broke up this play date sooner than the kids wanted. A sigh escaped his lips, staying another night wouldn’t hurt. “What the hell. What’s on the menu tonight?”

Ella broke out into a grin, you could feel yourself being put down on the ground again so she could head over to the staircase without having the chance of falling down and hurting either one of you. As she gestured for you and the brothers to follow behind, you took your time, falling behind until you were the last one to start walking. Something in the distance caught your attention, like a child’s voice was calling out your name. When you looked back to see if anyone else could have heard it, you saw that everyone was gone. But you heard it again, and this time, more urgent. 

You turned around and slowly began to walk to your bedroom window when you heard the noise coming from outside in your backyard. You pressed your nose to the cold glass to see that there was nobody around, just abandoned toys that you and the brothers were playing with before. As you glanced down, you caught sight of a little blonde girl that had to be a few years older than Dean, she was dressed in a gray and filthy looking dress. She was standing right underneath your window and began waving when the both of you made eye contact. You struggled a bit, but you managed to open up the window to see what she wanted. The little girl broke out into another grin.

“I thought you were never going to come.” She said, acting as if the both of you had been friends for the longest time. You just stared at her, knowing your mother made it quite clear not to talk to anyone that made you feel uncomfortable. While she may have been talking about strangers, there was something about this older girl that you didn’t like. She seemed to have noticed your apprehension. "Come play with me, Y/N. I’m lonely out here. Why don’t you jump down?”

You fearfully looked down at the second story drop; for a four year old, the sight would have made the thought of taking a step back and shutting the window would have crossed someone’s mind, but for some reason, it never did for you. You could feel yourself beginning to lean toward the edge with your body sticking out just halfway to feel the fall breeze tickle your skin. The little girl broke out into a smile, knowing how easy it was to manipulate the mind of a child. She watched as you were getting closer toward having your tiny body nearly about to fall, but she never counted on someone stepping into the scene and coming to the rescue before your body was lying the grass.

A familiar voice shouted your name in, loud enough to break you from your concentration on the little girl, making you realize what was going on. A scream erupted through your throat when you looked down and saw the height difference that made you scared out of your mind. As you twisted and turned from the situation that was quickly unfolding, he could feel his grip growing loose on the fabric and let go, but before he could watch you fall out, his father ran inside and saved the day. He managed to pull your small body back inside with ease, cradling your shaking body as you clutched his shirt, still thinking there was a chance you could fall.

John quietly shushed you, peeking out the window to see what could have caused this. When he glanced down to see the little girl in her true form, his face was stretched into panic for the slightest moment, but dropped it when he felt a tug at his shirt and his oldest son mumbling the man’s name.

\+ + +

“I doubt it could have been one of them. I mean, I haven’t heard one of them showing their faces in years.” Ella said for the third time, bending down to pick up another toy from the living room floor. She walked over toward the few bins she had for her daughter and the endless amount of belongings. Turning around, she headed for the couch where John was sitting. After a hectic day of dealing with three children, the both of them could discuss what happened hours ago. Ella was still shaken up. “Y/N has been acting out these past few years, anyway. Claiming to hear all sorts of noises and visions, that kind of thing. It could be from Andrew’s death. The child psychologist said it was—”

"You’re trusting the opinion of some shrink you went to? Jesus Ella, I know it’s been awhile since you’ve been out there. But you can’t believe that she’s just ‘acting out.’ I know what I saw, Ella. The damn thing nearly made her jump to her death if I didn’t grab in the nick of time.” John muttered, the woman tossed the man a dirty glare, not happy to hear the opinion come through without her permission. “You told me yourself about what happened to Andrew. Don’t you think they won’t do the same to Y/N?”

“What? And you don’t think that crosses my mind every night before I go to sleep?” Ella hissed, her eyebrows scrunching in anger. “I check up on her at least a handful of times during the night just to make sure she’s still breathing. Don’t you dare step inside my home and tell me to raise my child to fear the dark. I will not have her flinching over every little noise because it’s better to be safe than sorry. You may think it’s the right thing to do for your own children after what happened to Mary. But I have my own plans, John.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’m moving my daughter out of here. I want her away from everything and everyone related to this town. Including you.”

\+ + +

It’s been one month since the disappearance of Ava Wilson. You and the brothers worked endlessly to figure out what could have happened to her. After stumbling upon the scene of the fiancé, she’d bragged about, but with a slit throat and sulfur at the scene, you knew there was foul play to be suspected. But no matter how much digging either one of you did through every database that came to mind, frequently checking with the Roadhouse to see if there were patterns of demon activity that could give a clue of where the woman’s whereabouts could be. It was never enough. There was still not even a scrap of evidence to point either one of you in the direction of what the hell was going on.

You sat on the motel bed with your legs spread out to keep your laptop propped and on a few sites ranging from the local police to credit card statements from Ava’s bank you got into after posing as the woman. Sam was sitting at the kitchen counter with the phone toward his ear and own laptop open. He was talking to Ellen again to see if there was any sort of new information that could help with the hunt, but with the same sullen look on his face that’s been there for the past five minutes, nothing new and changed from the last time you called her. She knew all of you were growing ancy for answers or just a hint to point in the direction of the missing psychic. But she was dry of new knowledge.

“Okay, thanks Ellen.” Sam wrapped up the conversation with the woman, hitting the end button on his phone. The both of you looked up from the laptop screen when you heard the front door open to reveal the other brother, who had come back from a quick coffee run after swinging by the police station to see if they had anymore leads. You tried to focus your attention back to your laptop screen, but your stomach demanded attention, violently growling.

"What did she have to say?” You asked the younger man, pushing yourself off the bed to ignore the two pairs of eyes that jumped on you after hearing that sudden noise. As you went over toward the small table where Dean dropped his keys and paper bag, you quickly snatched a cup and the food you made him get all of you. Hunger didn’t work well when the frustration of the missing person situation.

“She got nothing.” Sam admitted, turning his head to look at his brother. “Me and Y/N, we’ve been checking every database we can think of, federal, state and local. No one’s heard anything about Ava. She just—into thin air, you know? What about you?”

“No, same as before.” Dean said, walking over to his brother with two coffees in hand. He gave one to his brother before pulling off the plastic top, not happy either with the dry spell that had been happening. “Sorry, man.”

“Ellen did have one thing.” Sam spoke up, bringing your attention away from the warm food you were currently devouring. What he brought up made you raise your eyebrows jump in surprise, knowing this was going right off the direction you thought he would spend more time obsessing over like he had for the past few weeks. “A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut—two freak accidents in the past three weeks.”

“Yeah, what’s that have to do with Ava?” Dean asked his little brother, heading over toward his own bed to take off his beat up leather jacket before sitting down.

“It’s a job.” Sam said, turning around in his seat to explain the case in more detail when he saw you head over toward the other bed you were currently occupying. “I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub, then a few days ago, a guy falls down the stairs, heads turns a complete one-eighty, which isn’t exactly normal, you know?” You slightly wince at that picture that crossed your mind, a hand reaching up to subconsciously touch the back of your neck. “I don’t know—it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we would think about checking it out.”

“You did?” You asked the man, covering your mouth as you chewed the food before swallowing.

“Yeah.” Sam said, you gave him a weird look as Dean plopped himself down on the bed, not sure how to respond from the spontaneous behavior of suggesting a case without even bringing up Ava and how much more work that needed to be done. “You two seem surprised.”

“Yeah, it’s just you know,” Dean pulled out a joke, making you want to roll your eyes in the back of your head at how tacky it was going to be. “not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?”

“What way is that?” Sam asked, giving his brother a curious look for the answer.

“Just figured after Ava, there’d be, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring at rainy windows.” Dean tried to explain which only ended up hearing a stifled giggle coming from you and a glare from his brother. He fell silent for a few moments, knowing he turned things a bit awkward for everyone. “I’ll shut up now.” He mumbled, moving around the bed so he was now sitting against the headboard and drinking the rest of his coffee.

“Look, I’m the one who told her to go back home.” Sam said, getting himself up from the chair as he walked across the room, heading to the direction of the beds. “Now her fiancé is dead, and some demon had taken her off to God knows where, you know?” He dropped himself to the edge of the bed you were sitting on as he continued talking. “We’ve been looking for a month now, and we got nothing. So, I’m not giving up on her, but I’m not gonna let other people die, either. We got to save as many people as we can.”

You could feel a smile beginning to stretch across your lips from the new attitude that seems to have blossomed in the younger man, this was the sort of optimism that was needed around her ever since all the chaos, which felt like ages ago when you began to think about it. Your attention was drawn away when the other brother spoke up, and of course, made you look at him with annoyance at his response. “Wow, that attitude is just way too healthy for me.” He remarked, but his brother broke out into an amused smile. “I’m officially uncomfortable now. Thank you.”

"You’re such an ass.” You mumbled, reaching a hand behind you to throw a pillow at the man sitting horizontal from you. Dean grumbled out your name, knowing very well that he was holding warm coffee, but it wasn’t like all of you were going to be staying here much longer. You looked over at Sam, “All right, call Ellen. Tell her we’ll take the case. Nothing like a few dead bodies to bring us back into the swing of things.”

\+ + +

The hotel that Ellen had mentioned took about a day’s drive before you saw it come into view from the backseat window. You could feel a smile stretch across your lips at the sight; it was a large, Victorian style inn that screamed to be haunted. You got out of the Impala after parking just a small distance away from the entrance, turning around so your attention was focused on the sight of this big hotel. This was more different from any of the other places that you’d stayed before. And you had to admit, you were sort of excited to start another case again, knowing it had been long enough since you could just focus all of your attention on someone else’s problems than your own.

“Dude, this is sweet.” Dean said, closing the driver’s side door so he was now standing next to you, enjoying the sight himself. “I never get to work jobs like this.”

“Like what?” You asked, turning your gaze away from the hotel for a moment to stare at the man right beside you. An amused smile stretched across your lips at his response.

“Old-school haunted houses.” Dean said, walking over to the back seat to grab the few duffel bags that were shoved inside the backseat with you during this entire trip. Sam grabbed a few and flung the straps over his shoulder as his brother followed in his actions, you made sure to close and lock the doors when they were generous enough to have carried your own bags. All of you began walking to the front entrance, you trailed behind the brothers. “You know—fog, secret passageways, sissy british accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we’re inside. Mmm, Daphne.“ He hummed as a smirk stretched across his lips when he thought about the fictional woman to himself. "Love her.”

Rolling your eyes at the conversation, you followed behind the brothers up the concrete staircase, but when you turned your head to catch sight of a black urn that was on your right, some sort of familiar symbol caught your attention. A finger reached out to touch the X that was carved into the iron. “Hey, wait a second.” You called out, turning your head to see that Dean dropped his hand away from the door as Sam leaned in to see what you were staring at. “I’m not so sure haunted is the problem here.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. 

“Oh, I know what this is. You see this pattern here?” Sam was now standing next to you, tapping his finger against the cold black metal before dropping his hand toward the side again. “That’s a quincunx. It’s a five-spot.”

“Five-spot.” Dean repeated after his little brother, thinking about what it could have been from, he turned his head to the house, seeming to wonder what it was doing in a quiet and reserved place like this. “That’s for hoodoo spell work, isn’t it?

"Yeah.” You agreed with the older man. “You fill this thing with bloodweed, you got a nifty little charm to ward off enemies. Except,” You glanced around the grounds to see there wasn’t much of any sort of living plants that looked similar from the one you were looking for. “I don’t see any bloodweed.”

“Don’t you think this place is a little too,“ Dean put his theory out there, shrugging his shoulders slightly, knowing you were all in the upper north east of the states, away from the deep southern side that would seem more appropriate to see this sort of thing. "white-meat for hoodoo?” 

“Maybe.” Sam mumbled underneath his breath, not knowing how to judge properly.

The only way to know if someone was having a bit of fun with hoodoo is to get a good look at who was running this little hotel with a rising body count. As you stepped inside the inn, you couldn’t help yourself but gawk at the lovely furnishing that ranged from dark woods to walls full of different pictures that hung up on the walls. As you trailed behind the brothers, you turned your attention to an older looking woman step out from the other room. From her appearance, she seemed too conservative to know about dark magic that was lingering around the hotel. 

"May I help you?” She asked, heading behind the front desk, flashing the brothers both a polite smile before grabbing a pen to write down their information for their stay.

“Hi, yes,” Dean stepped forward a bit more so he was closer to the desk. “We’d like a room for a couple of nights.”

You turned your head to the left when you heard the sound of small footsteps coming from the other side of the room, you quickly stepped out of harm’s way after you caught sight of two little girls still dressed in school uniforms come rushing past you. A smile spread across your lips at how much fun they were having, you were guessing they were sisters, the smaller one in front as the other one with curly hair chased her around. They accidentally brushed against you before disappearing from sight and their mother’s scolding tone that was quick to notice what just happened. 

"Hey!” The woman called out, but her daughters were off, continuing their game of tag. She gave you an apologetic smile, shaking her head at her children’s crazy behavior. “Sorry about that.” You brushed it off with a smile and mumbling that it was quite all right. You were like them once. Kids will be kids, after all. “Well, congratulations. You could be some of final guests.

“Well, that sounds vaguely ominous.” Dean joked with the woman, looking over his shoulder to crack a smile at you and his brother before turning his attention back front.

“No, I’m sorry. I mean, we’re closing at the end of the month.“ She corrected herself. She took a moment to observe the three of you before speaking up again. “Let me guess—you guys are here antiquing?”

Dean decided to play around with the joke, shrugging his shoulders at his brother before flashing her another smile at the woman standing behind the desk. "How’d you know?”

“You just look the type.” She said, giving the man a playful wink before turning her attention toward the papers for a moment. What she assumed made you bite your bottom lip to keep a laugh from escaping your throat, knowing she was dead wrong at their status. “So, a king-size bed for you two and a single for the lady?”

“What—No. No, no.” Sam quickly spoke up, shaking his head at the woman. He gave her a smile, you let a small laugh slip through your lips before you casually pressed a hand against your mouth. “Two singles. We’re brothers.” 

“Oh.” She mumbled, a forced chuckle escaped her throat before she gave them both a small smile, realizing the horrible mistake she’d just made. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“What do you mean we looked the type?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask the woman, giving her a small smile, wondering if people had assumed this before. But he just stared at him for a small moment, not sure how to answer the man properly.

“You knew, speaking of antiques, you have a really interesting urn on the front porch.” You stepped into the conversation, deciding to save everyone from any further damage of the awkwardness. And the symbol had began to bother you from how out of place it was here. “Where did you get it?”

“I don’t know. It’s been there forever.” She said, shrugging her shoulders as he put her attention back to the papers in front of her. A few more scribbles were placed on a piece of paper before she handed Dean the fake credit card back to him and a room key of where the brothers would be staying. “Here you go Mr. Mahogoff. You’ll be staying in room 237. And you,” She reached out a hand and gave you another room key. “will be staying in room 239.” With a ring of a bell, you looked over your shoulder to see another hotel employee coming to help. “Sherwin, could you show our guests to their room?”

“Let me guess,” The man, who had to be as old as the hotel, dressed in his uniform that was just a cheap black suit and a patch on his jacket looked at both of the brothers with curiosity. “Antiquities?”

Dean kept his mouth shut to keep an unwanted comment spilling out from his mouth, he just shoved the man the heaviest bag to carry as punishment. But without even thinking of what could have been inside, the older man dropped it to the ground, making the concealed weapons clank around. You let a quiet chuckle slip through when you saw Dean psychically wince at the noise, knowing there was enough precious things in there that were being thrown around like a change purse. The four of you began heading up the staircase, each time the bag bumped against the wood, Dean winced in anger.

“I can give you a hand with that bag.” Dean finally says when all of you make it toward the top of the staircase. But the man says that he’s got it, and from the tone of his voice, there was no changing his mind. This was his job, and he was going to make sure to do it properly before it would have been no more.

"So the hotel’s closing up, huh?” Sam asks, making polite conversation with the man, wondering he could get some more answers to figure out more history of this place.

“Yep—Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don’t come like they used to.” Sherwin said, gesturing his free arm around the hallway that the four of you were still walking around in. “Still, it’s a damn shame. It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here. I practically grew up here. I’m gonna miss it.” In the midst of all of the old man’s rambling, you found yourself stopping when you saw the man take the boys’ room key out. “He’s your room, gentlemen.” 

“Thanks.” Sam mumbled, grabbing the key before heading inside the room to take off the heavy bags he’s been carrying and get situated before cracking down on research.

You stood in the hallway with your own bag now resting in your hands after Dean stepped inside the room after his brother. A small smile spread across your lips when you watched as Sherwin placed out his palm, waiting for a tip, but Dean didn’t seem to know the customs, knowing that he only stayed in motels where nobody was nice enough to help you. He just stares at the man for the longest moment, not sure what he wanted. "You’re not gonna cheat out on me, are you, boy?” Sherwin asked, the look on Dean’s face was nothing more than priceless, shoving his hand inside his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing the man a few bills. “Thank you. Now,” The older man turned his attention toward you. “Let’s get you settled in, dear.”

You gladly handed over your bag to him and watched as he put the strap on his shoulder. You knew it was much lighter than the one Dean had been carrying. But you just turned your head and smirked at the man standing in the doorway before following behind Sherwin, making note to give him a nice tip, knowing the man was kind enough to deserve one. And you might have took a few extra dollars from Dean’s wallet when he wasn’t paying attention this morning. Serves him wrong for teaching you how to pick pockets, knowing he was the easiest target.

\+ + +

You and Sam were sitting in the middle of the room on a few loveseats that were rather comfortable while your nose was deep into the papers that you managed to print off about the victims before leaving last night. But you could feel your eyes slowly linger up when hearing the sounds of footsteps coming from behind and Dean’s body appear from the corner of your eye. He couldn’t help himself but waste time and comment about the tacky decorations of the room, which was a bit odd, even you had to admit. Your attention was hooked on a white wedding gown that was pinned to the wall across from you, something that looked like it was from the early 1900s from the style and how much fabric was draped around.

“What the…” Dean trailed off, a chuckle escaping his throat as he glanced at the wedding dress you were fixated on. “That’s normal. Why would anyone stay here? I’m amazed they kept in business this long.”

“All right. Now that you’ve got that out of your system,” You said, watching as he trailed back toward the beds. “Victim number one—Joan Edison, forty-three years old.” But you looked up for a moment, just enough time to see him sink a bit too low into the mattress, causing you to stifle a laugh before you continued reading. “A realtor handling the sale of the hotel. And victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to goodwill.”

“They’re both tied in shutting the place down.” Dean noted the possible connection to the reasons for their untimely deaths. Someone didn’t want to leave this hotel. And they were killing anyone who stood in their way. 

“Maybe somebody doesn’t want to leave,” Sam said, almost as he was reading your thoughts. “And they’re using hoodoo to fight back.”

“Who do you think our witch doctor is,” You asked the brothers, knowing all of you had a very short list of possible suspects. “Susan?” 

 

“Doesn’t seem likely. She’s the one selling.” Sam said, pointing out the obvious flaw in your idea. It would be strange for someone to put all the effort in stopping everyone who was just doing their job of closing this place down when she was the reason for it, in the first place. You shrugged your shoulders.

“So, what the, Sherwin?” Dean asked the both of you, his face scrunched up with doubt at the older man possibly even doing something like this. Even though he had a deep connection with the inn that dates back to his childhood, he just didn’t seem like the kind of person who would be okay with murder, he almost seemed at peace when you talked to him a bit more during the walk to your own hotel room.

“I don’t know.” You and Sam mumbled out together, knowing the both of you had the same suspicion about the old man.

“Of course, the most troubling question is,” Dean brought up the awkward situation that had been bothering him, “why do these people think that we’re gay?”

You weren’t even going to answer that one, drawing your attention back to the papers as you shuffled them around a bit. Sam, on the other hand, had no problem using the moment to insult his brother. “You are kind of butch. ” Sam said, you pressed the papers to your lips to keep yourself from the smiling at the horrible joke that shouldn’t have been funny in the first place. “Probably think you’re overcompensating.”

“Right.” Dean muttered, forcing out a small chuckle, trying his hardest to think of a comeback for his brother. But he just sat there for the longest time, still thinking. You rolled your eyes, happy that you never had siblings growing up to avoid these kind of moments that lingered well into adulthood.

\+ + +

You closed the door of your hotel room shut, hearing nothing more than the echos of your own footsteps as you walked further into the hallway. You had gotten everything unpacked. Despite the fact that the case could solved at any moment. And you would be off on the road again in the matter of a day or so. But you crossed out the two main suspects that you’d saw. And you doubt some little kids knew that heavy kind of spells. So, you decided to peek around the hotel more to see if you could find any evidence.

Even though you knew the heart wrenching feeling of having to pack up all your belongings and leave a place that had sentimental value, no life was worth to be taken just because this person wanted to keep their memories vivid like the day it happened. There was a lot of history in a place like this; most of the pictures that hunt on the wall were old and vintage, something that made you wonder if these were the people that Sherwin were talking about, past guests and family members that worked here. Your eyes trailed over toward a table on the left when you began walking across the staircase that overlooked the downstairs. 

As you began to trace your finger against the wood and leaned over the slightest to see the things that laid on top of it with more detail, a vase caught your attention. You picked up the object and peeked inside to see what was causing you to be so fascinated by it. You caught sight of familiar looking X carved into the ceramics, just like the one you saw from outside in the urn. The thought cut itself off at that point when something began to tickle your neck. You reached up a free amr to smack away whatever was buzzing around you. You could feel the piece of art loose from your grip when someone’s voice boomed inside your ear. It made you jump in fright. All though, before you could watch as the artwork crash to the ground and break into little pieces, you let out a sigh of relief. A familiar hand reached out and grabbed it.

“Look at that—more hoodoo.” You turned your head to catch the sight of Dean looming closer to you, nothing more than a frown stretched across your lips. He placed the vase back on the table, giving you a smirk, knowing he saved you from explaining a messy situation to Susan. 

“Where’s your better half?” You couldn’t help yourself but throw around a joke. Dean roll his eyes in annoyance. You knew what the hotel staff had presumed was still bothering him from his reaction. You let out a quiet laugh, watching from the corner of your eye as the man wandered around before walking to a room that was labeled private. 

You headed over when he began knocking, and a few moments later, the door opened up to reveal Susan, who peeked her head out just the to see who it was. A small smile spread across her lips as she gave the both of you a curious look, wondering why you were bothering her from the many chores that still needed to be done. “Hi.” She said, looking at the both of you for a moment. “Everything okay with your rooms?” 

“Yeah,” You and Dean said, repeating a few more as a matching pair of similar smiles spread across your lips as you glanced over at one another before focusing your attention back toward the woman. “Everything’s great.”

“Good.” She muttered, happy to see a few satisfied customers. But as the three of you stood in a small period of silence, she spoke up as a way to end the conversation before everything could become awkward. “Well, I was just in the middle of packing.”

“Hey,” Dean was quick on his feet, peeking inside the room to find another good conversation topic. “Are those antique dolls? ‘Cause this one here,” You could feel yourself flinch when he brought the attention over to you, making your eyes wander over toward the many porcelain dolls that lined the shelves. Your nose wrinkled when you caught sight of their soulless, painted on eyes. He knew you hated those kind of dolls, knowing of the creepiness factor seeped back into your childhood, but he didn’t care. “She’s got a major doll collection back home. Don’t you? Huh?”

You reached out a hand to wrap around the man’s forearm, tugging him close as you let a believable smile spread across your lips. You dug your nails into his skin, knowing very well you were pissed at him for dragging you further into this mess. “Big time.”

“You think she, well, we could come in a take a look?” Susan gave him a skeptical look, mumbling about not being sure. But he used a simple pleading look at the woman, still adding more unnecessary details to this already bogus story. “Please? She loves them. And she’s not gonna tell you this, but she’s always dressing them up in little outfits. You would make her day. She would. Huh?” He looked over at you again, you just squeezed harder, but still, he kept egging you on. The fact that you knew it could lead you to more answers, and maybe that stupid little smile he pulled at the end, was winning you over a bit more than you thought. “Huh?”

“It’s true.” You decided to finally play along, looking back at the woman with a grin.

“Okay.” Susan said, smiling as the opened up the door wider for the both of you to step inside the room. “Come on in.”

“All right.” Dean almost cheered out, you quickly turned your head and flashed him a death glare, giving him enough of a warning to sleep with one eye open tonight. You made yourself step inside the room to see that almost everything was covered in dolls. You wandered around until something caught your attention from the other room, allowing to use it as an excuse for you to stop staring at those dolls. “Wow.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, seeming just as taken back as you were about the toys. “This is a lot of dolls. They’re nice, you know. They’re not super creepy at all.”

“I suppose they are a little creepy.” Susan said, crossing her arms over her chest as let out a small chuckle. “But they’ve been in the family forever—a lot of sentimental value.”

You took a step forward when you saw a dollhouse that was just a bit shorter than your height, almost like an exact model of the hotel. As you observed the other side, you noticed that the inside interior was just like the inside, down to the exact carpet. “What is this?” You asked the woman, pointing to the dollhouse with an interested expression to know more about this. “The hotel?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Susan said to you, nodding. “An exact replica, custom built.”

You walked a bit further and examined the inside details of the house as you dropped your gaze for a moment to focus your attention on the downstairs. A male doll dressed in a white uniform caught your attention; he was lying on the floor, just inches from the staircase. You turned twisted it to see that his head was turned around so it was in the opposite direction. A thought crossed your mind as you glanced up at Susan. “His head got twisted around.” You said, lifting up the toy so the both of them could see. “What happened?”

“Tyler, probably.” She nonchalantly said, shrugging it off as nothing more than a small accident.

“Mommy!” You heard someone like a little girl shout as footsteps began to come from the other room. Looking down, you saw the smaller girl from earlier today come inside and stop right next to her mother, getting ready to tell on her sister’s bad behavior. “Maggie’s being mean.”

"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?” Susan asked her daughter, titling her head as a look for her daughter to run off, knowing she was in the middle of something important. But you decided to see if the little girl knew about what happened to this toy.

“Hey, Tyler.” You took a step steps forward to the girl. You smiled at her when you showed off the toy, pretending to be helpful for an answer. “I see you broke your doll. Want me to fix it?”

“I didn’t break it.” Tyler said, in a matter-of-fact voice. “I found it like that.”

“Oh, well,” You mumbled, “Maybe Maggie did it by accident.”

“No, neither one of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke him.” Tyler said, shaking her head as she defended her sister. You let out a small breath as you looked down at the doll, someone had to have done this. But from the little girl’s tone of voice, it made you wonder if she was really telling the truth about what happened to this little figure.

“Tyler,” Susan said, placing a hand on her daughter’s head for a moment before dropping it to the girl’s shoulder as she continued to comfort her daughter that she wouldn’t have gotten in trouble if they really did it. “She wouldn’t get mad.”

“Grandma?” Dean asked, interested in this mysterious family member they keep mentioning.

“Grandma Rose.” Tyler says, looking around the room. “These were all her toys.”

“Oh, really?” Dean asked again, the little girl with curiosity. “Where is Grandma Rose now?”

“Up in her room.” She said. When you heard that, an idea popped inside your mind.

“You know, I’d really love to talk to Rose about her incredible–” You tried to make a plan of speaking to the woman who must have grown up here herself, but before you could even finish your sentence, Susan was quick to cut you off.

“No.” She nearly hissed out the word. You and Dean gave the woman a curious look, wondering if she was trying to hide something. But she brushed off her past behavior with a small smile, struggling to come out with a proper excuse. “I mean, I’m afraid that’s impossible. My mother’s been very sick, and she’s not taking any visitors.

"Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” You mumbled, giving the woman a sincere smile as you placed down the doll figure on a table beside you. Giving that as your cue to leave the woman and her daughter alone, you gave Dean a look to start heading for the door before any more tension could fill the air. You gave the woman another thank you before stepping out back into the hallway and closing the door behind you. When you turned around, to your surprise, Sam was back from wherever he was hiding from. “There you are. You saved yourself from one hell of a nightmare.”

Sam gave you a confused look, not sure what you were talking about. Dean, on the other hand, rolled his eyes at your dramatic behavior from what the both of you had witnessed. “It wasn’t that bad.” He mumbled, you just gave him a glare. He just let a smirk spread across his lips at your facial expressions. “What? Is Y/N afraid of little dollies?”

“Shut up. The only frightening thing that I saw was that doll. His head was twisted around just like Sam had said about the second victim.“ You said, explaining the connection brothers as the three of you began walking again. "And it was right next to the staircase. Something weird is going on here, that’s for sure.”

“What do you think?” Dean asked you. “Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?”

You shrugged your shoulders, it seemed that there was enough evidence to prove that you were getting close to figuring out who was responsible for all these deaths. “Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses and binding spells.”

“Yeah, maybe we found our witch doctor.” Dean said, walking a bit further down the hall until the three of you stopped to make a quick plan for research. “Y/N and will go see what we can dig up on granny. You get online, check old obits and freak accidents, that sort of thing. See if she’s whacked anybody before.” Nodding your head, you began walking down the hall again to head to your room quickly before heading out for research. But you found yourself stopping in your tracks when you heard the last command that was directed to the little brother. “Don’t go surfing porn. surfing porn. It’s not the kind of whacking I mean.”

“Dude!” You hissed, looking over your shoulder to give the man a grossed out expression. “Why are you such a pervert?”

\+ + +

You spent the rest of the afternoon at either the library or town hall to see what you could find on this mysterious Grandma Rose. There wasn’t much on the woman that you could find that seemed useful enough; mostly normal documents that ranged from marriage licenses and a few death certificates from her family members and husband. You and Dean pulled up toward the hotel just after dark had set, but you noticed neon colored lights flashing in the distance as you got closer to the hotel and parked a distance away. The both of you headed back to the front entrance of the inn, watching from the corner of your eye as a few paramedics wheeled away someone in a body bag. Whatever was causing this mess, it claimed another life.

You were only on the first step of the staircase when you saw Susan coming back after talking to a police officer. She seemed distraught and saddened at what had happened, but mostly in shock when someone had died again. You gave her a worried look when she stopped and made eye contact with you and Dean, not expecting to see her guests out to see what the commotion was about. “What happened?”

“The maid went in to turn down the sheets, she saw just him hanging there.” Susan explained repeating the story she had already told the police. You glanced over at the ambulance where the dead body was, knowing it must have been the other guest you saw just before you left for the afternoon. Whatever he was here for, someone didn’t want him ever checking out again. You turned your head up the slightest when you felt as if someone was watching the three of you. It was quick, but you saw Sam peering at the sight before dropping the curtain and walking away.

“That’s awful.” Dean said. “Was he a guest?”

“He worked for the company that bought the house.” She explained. Well, his job could be the reason for the man’s unexpected departure like you’d been suspecting. He was dressed in a suit and tie, seeming more of the business man on a trip that wasn’t for joy from the stressed expression you caught on his face before leaving. “I don’t understand.”

“What?” You curiously asked the woman, looking back at her after you found yourself staring at the hotel window long enough.

“Had a lot of bad luck here.” Susan admitted, you could see the faintest smile spread across her face before she dropped it when she realized what she was saying in front of her guests. “Look, if you two like to check out, I’ll give you a full refund.”

“No, thanks.” Dean said, giving the woman a polite smile before glancing down at you, knowing there was no backing out now. When you realized the body count was up to three, you gave the man standing next to you a subtle look that read it was time to get serious. “We don’t scare that easily.”

You gave the woman another smile before turning around on your heels and following behind the oldest brother when he went straight for the front door. The both of you wandered through the hotel until back up again in the boys’ bedroom. You took the key out from the lock when you saw that it was just lying on there with the door opened up a crack. You watched from the corner of your eye as Dean went toward his bed where he had left his bag, you closed the door and placed the key on a near table. Since there was already one fatality from the small stay that you were here, it only meant that someone wasn’t playing around. You walked across the room and headed for the windows again. As you turned your head, you saw that Sam was sitting in a chair, staring off into space, ignoring what his brother asked him.

“There’s been another one” Dean explained, but with his back turned toward his brother, he didn’t seem to notice the distant glaze that was over his face as he went on. “Some guy just hung himself in his room.”

“Yeah, I saw.” Sam mumbled, slowly and a bit slurred. You broke your concentration away from the window and stared at the man. Something about his behavior didn’t seem normal to you.

“We got to figure this out and fast. What did you find out on the granny?” Dean asked his brother, knowing he was want info know if the woman had killed before, but the other man’s response wasn’t what either one of you were expecting. You glanced over at Dean, shrugging your shoulders when you caught him staring at you with a confused expression. You weren’t sure what was going on with Sam, who was starting to act like a child being scolded at.

“You’re bossy.”

“…What?”

“You’re bossy. ” Sam repeated himself again, pointing an arm at his brother. He stumbled around in the chair a bit, but he soon broke out into a grin as he started to chuckle when he looked over at you, who came over and grabbed him to stare into his eyes, which were glassy. You took just one whiff of his breath to know it stunk of cheap liquor and even a bit of vodka. “And you’re short.”

“Are you drunk?” You asked. But when you glanced over at the bar, all sorts of empty bottles were spread around the top, and knowing from the familiar labels, he was wasted. You let out a frustrated sigh, stepping a few feet backwards as you ran your fingers through your hair, not sure what to do. “Oh my, God. You reek like whisky and tequila.”

“Yeah, so?” Sam finally admits it. “Stupid.”

“Sam, what were you thinking? This isn’t like you. We’re working a case.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at the younger man, waiting for an answer to this very unusual behavior. But he went from a happy drunk, toward a sad drunk. You let out a quiet sigh, knowing none of you could control this situation of what goes on around you. But when you’re drunk, nothing makes sense; the room spins, you feel like you’re on top of the world for one minute, but the next, someone’s crying about the dumbest things or confessing everything.

“That guy who hung himself—I couldn’t save him.” Sam began, getting himself worked up with everything that was happening around him and he couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t know. You couldn’t have done anything.” Dean said, you gave the other brother a look, sort of telling him to have patience with the younger man because you had a feeling things were about to turn from bad to worse.

“That’s not an excuse, Dean. I should have found a way to save him.” The youngest man said, you bit the inside of your cheek when you heard him continue on. You knew what this really was about, after all. “I should have saved Ava, too.”

“You can’t save everyone, Sammy.” You said, trying to be patient with the man. “Even you said that. You win some, you lose some.” But even with that being said, you heard his fist slam down against the table closest toward him, making all the contents shake from the weight he put toward it. You clenched your jaw, knowing in the next step of being drunk was always anger. “Sam. You need to calm down. Getting yourself worked up isn’t going to help us.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand all right?” Sam said, his tone rising a bit as he continued talking nonsense to you and his brother. “The more people I save, the more I can change.”

“Change what?” His brother asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

“My destiny, Dean.”

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this.” You said, finally at your breaking point. Suddenly you felt like you were taking care of a stubborn child than a drunk, grown man. You bent down to grab a hold of Sam’s arm, but knowing your size compared to his, Dean stepped in and pulled the larger man up toward a standing position. “Come on, sasquatch.”

“Hey, hey, I got him.” Dean said, managing to carry his brother’s weight toward his own. You gave the man a serious look, wondering if he was okay to taking care of his little brother in a situation like this. But he just nodded his head for the door, knowing you didn’t need to see something like this. You let out another quiet sigh, mouthing a thank you before heading toward the door, leaving the men alone. “Up and at 'em, big boy. Let’s go.” 

“I need you to watch out for me.” Sam began to mutter out gibberish again.

“Yeah, I always do.” Dean said, making sure the taller man didn’t go crashing toward the floor as he lost his footing on the carpet.

“No. No, no, no.” Sam said, shaking his head as he grabbed his brother by the sides of his jacket. He went back toward his serious self for just a moment, bringing up the old topic that Dean didn’t want to discuss right now. “You have to watch out for me…alright? And if I ever turn into something that I’m not…” Dean stared at his brother for a few moments, trying to think what it was, but his face dropped when he realized what it could have been before it was said out loud into the air. “You have to kill me.” The oldest brother only got the other man’s name out in annoyance before the speech still went on. “Dean, Dad told you to do it. You have to.”

“Yeah, well, Dad’s an ass.” Dean said, speaking his mind on the matter of everything that had been unfolding, still worse as admitting. “He never should have said anything. You don’t lay that crap on your kids.”

“No, he was right to say it. Who knows what I might become?” Sam went on, his speech slurred just a bit. But his thoughts were clear enough to send a streak of guilt into his brother. “Even now, everyone around me dies.”

“Well, I’m not dying, okay? Y/N sure as hell ain’t going anywhere. And either are you. Come on, sit down.” Dean said, finally shoving his brother down on his bed. But the man still wouldn’t stop talking, as much as Dean wanted him to.

“No, please, Dean, you’re the only one who can do it.” Sam said, trying to get up to a standing position but the older man kept him pinned down in place. "And if you can’t, Y/N has to do it. You have to tell her. She can do it. She can do anything. Promise me.“

"Don’t ask that of me.” Dean said, not happy to hear your name dragged into this conversation.

“Dean, please. You have to promise me.”

It was easy to think of the word no; but his little brother always had that sort of charm on everyone, stare into those eyes that would be glazed over with a mix of sadness, just begging for someone to emphasize and do whatever he said. Most of the time he would have never said yes, but his brother was drunk, probably not going to remember anything tomorrow morning. So, he nodded his head, muttering out the two words he didn’t believe in. “I promise.”

\+ + +

You wandered around the halls of the hotel, knowing that sleep seemed like a lifetime away with all the worries that flooded around in your mind. What Sam had said was beginning to make you think about different things, which lead toward other thoughts you didn’t want to discuss with yourself right now. The reason why you were so eager to take this case was because you thought this would have been a good distraction from everything that was going on. You needed something somewhat normal in your life that would just last for a moment, not to watch as it be an excuse to see the youngest Winchester crumble like that. You felt guilty for several different reasons. He was your best friend, and you didn’t know what to do to make the problem go away. 

You found yourself at the front desk again after walking for a minute or so away from your room. You remembered Susan mentioning a bar, you wondered if you could get a drink at this hour. You walked down the hall a bit more before turning the corner, stepping into a well lit room. Sherwin was across the room, having a drink himself. So you decided to head up and see if you could join him, killing for a nice buzz to let you sleep tonight. 

“Find any good antiques?” Sherwin asked, you stared at him for a few moments. 

“No, no.” You said, shaking your head when you realized what he meant. “We got distracted.” 

“Have a drink.” He said, reaching for a tall wine glass. You could feel your lips stretch into a small smile. You had been craving something that wasn’t cheap beer. But you wondered how he knew. “Years of working in a hotel. You begin to know people’s choice of poison is by the look on their face.” 

“Fair enough. Thank you.” You said, sitting down on the barstool. You watched him pour a glass for you until it was just halfway full, enough to feel you relaxed. You smiled again as you grabbed the glass. You let it sit for a moment before bringing it to your lips. “So, poor guy, huh, killing himself?”

“That kind of thing seems to be going around lately.” Sherwin admits, screwing the top on the bottle on tighter. You nod your head, swallowing the wine, allowing yourself to enjoy the rush.

“Yeah, I heard about the other ones.” You said, twirling around the drink. You knew what you were about to say next was the perfect getaway to figure out what was going on. “It’s almost like this hotel has a curse or something.”

“Every hotel has its spilled blood. "Sherwin said, making you curious to know more about the history of this place. He seemed like the type of man who had a a few fascinating stories to tell. “If people only knew what’s gone on in some of those rooms they’ve checked into.” 

“You know a lot about this place, don’t you?” You asked the man.

“Down to the last nail.” He said, taking a quick sip of his own drink. 

You gave him a smile, “I’d love to hear some stories.” 

“Dear, you should never say that to an old man.” 

“Well, what can I say? I’m a curious girl.” 

\+ + +

The both of you spent the next few minutes going over the basic history of the hotel. You wandered with the man as the both of you began to head up the staircase, him one step higher than you. Sherwin pointed a finger a black and white photograph of a woman and her young daughter. “This is little Miss Susan, and her mother Rose.” Sherwin said, pointing a finger of the small family. “Happier days.” 

“They’re not happy now?” You asked the man, turning your gaze from the picture to him. 

“Well, would you be, leaving the only home you ever knew?” You stopped yourself from taking a sip of your wine when he threw that question at you. You thought about your answer for a moment before swallowing your drink.

“I moved halfway across the country when I was four. I left all my best friends behind. ” You said, admitting your small past to the man. “It sucks, but you get over pretty quick.” 

“Well, this is Rose’s home.” Sherwin explained the older woman you had heard about this morning. “It’s been in her family for over a century. Used to be the family estate, and now she gets to live in some senior-living graveyard. And they get to tear this place down.” 

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry to hear that they’re doing something so terrible. Especially on a piece of history like this.” You mumbled. You overlooked the interior of the hotel again before walking back down the staircase. “I hear Rose isn’t feeling well, either.”

“No, she isn’t.” Sherwin said, following behind you as the both of you made it back down to the first floor. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing that it was a basic answer to give. 

“What’s wrong with her?” You asked, trying to dig for any sort of new information. 

“It’s my business to say.” Sherwin said. 

You nodded your head and fell silent. You knew there wasn’t a point anymore to at the woman’s condition. You put your attention on a few pictures that were sitting on top of a table you were standing next to. The first photograph was a shot of the home with two people standing in the background, you leaned in closer to see they had a baby carriage next to them. Your attention went over to the next picture of of a little girl and a woman, who dressed in what you presumed was a maid’s uniform. “Who’s this?” You asked, pointing at the second photograph. 

“That’s Rose when she was a little girl.” Sherwin explained, picking up the picture frame for the both of you to take a closer look. The pair was sitting down on a chair with a book propped open. But your attention dropped to the woman’s necklace. The pendent was the exact same mark you remembered seeing engraved in the urn and vase. 

“Who’s that with her?” You asked the man, feeling your eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“That’s her nanny, Marie.” Sherwin explained. You watched as he walked over to the fireplace to prop the picture on top of the mantle. He continued to gaze at it for a moment longer. “She looked after Rose than her own mother.” 

You licked your lips and pressed wine glass to your lips again to finish your drink. A feeling of curiosity set in your mind when you looked back at the photograph. It looks like you weren’t going to be sleeping tonight, after all.

\+ + +

“Looks like someone had too much fun last night.” You remarked. You leaned yourself against the doorframe of the bathroom, watching the youngest brother trying to keep himself from vomiting anymore alcohol that might have been in his system. You’d been dying to see the aftermath of Sam’s brilliant plan of coping with his problems. A pounding headache, the room smelling of vomit and an expression of regret. “I bet you feel like a real champ. Want me to grab you breakfast?”

When you came inside the room this morning, he was already awake and leaning against the toilet bowl, upchucking everything that he downed the night before. You threw away all the empty bottles and neatly stacked the dirty cups into a small pile for housekeeping to take care of when all of you left. You made all the sarcastic and witty comments you wanted at the younger man. All he could do was respond with a mumbled remark about you being a jerk or a pitiful groan.

You turned your head slightly when the motel door opened to reveal the other Winchester. As he headed over to his bed, he took notice of the perfect view of his little brother passed out on the floor. Before he could stop himself, a laugh escaped his throat when he decided to join the torment on the man. “How feeling, Sammy? I guess mixing whisky and jager wasn’t such a gangbuster idea, was it?” The man asked, taking off his jacket while letting another chuckle sneak through. “I’ll bet you don’t remember a thing from last night, do you?”

“No,” Sam admitted in a hoarse voice, “I can still taste the tequila.”

“You know, there’s a really good hangover remedy.” Dean said. You knew this was the man’s way of drawing out another attempt at torturing his little brother at the vivid image. Your own stomach began to turn in disgust at the thought it. “It’s a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray.”

“Oh, I hate you two.” Sam groaned, trying to make himself stand up again.

“We know you do.” You said at the younger man, letting out a quiet laugh. When you saw Dean come to the bathroom, you were quick to remember what you were here in the first place. “Hey, turns out when grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace.”

“So you think she taught Rose hoodoo?” Sam asked, managing to lift his head up just enough to stare at you for the answer.

“Yes, I do.” You said. You took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest, trying your hardest not to get near the taller man. He managed to get himself up on both of his feet and head over to the both of you. But when he opened his mouth to speak, you quickly pinched your nose to keep yourself from getting another whiff of his morning breath.

“All right.” Sam said, leaning himself against the doorframe. “I think it’s time we talk to Rose, then.”

“Oh, you need to brush your teeth first.” Dean muttered, regretting the choice of standing too close to his brother. You nodded your head in agreement, walking away before you could take one more smell of vomit and cheap. If you did, you might find yourself upchucking your own breakfast.

\+ + +

The halls were empty without a single soul except for the three of you when you stepped in front of the same private door. It appeared that nobody seemed to have been around upstairs. You could hear distant footsteps coming from the bottom floor and voices when you passed by the staircase. But just to be safe, Sam knocked on the door a few times to see if anyone was inside.

“Hello? Susan?” Sam called out, waiting to hear anyone approached the closed door. When there was nothing but silence around the place, he spoke up again with a quieter tone. “Clear?” 

You nodded your head as you glanced over your shoulder to see there was nobody still around. Sam dropped to a crouch to start picking the lock as you and his brother continued to make sure none of the remaining hotel staff didn’t see what all of you were up. A moment later, you heard the familiar sounds of a lock clicking into place and the younger man coming back into a standing position. You watched as the door swing open, the brothers went in first before you followed behind, making sure to quietly shut the door when the coast was clear again. You saw another door across the room, which peaked your interest to see what was behind it.

Ignoring the hundred of painted eyes that you could feel following you on the shelves you stood next to, you wandered across another doorway before you stood at the one you were looking for. You quietly wrapped your hand around the doorknob and slowly opened it. Looking over your shoulder, you nodded your head when you saw the entrance lead to a staircase.The three of you began to walk up the walk up the creaky two flights of stairs, trying your hardest not to make a lot of noise to trigger suspicion of being where you shouldn’t be.

You peaked around the corner when you reached the top of the staircase. Another hallway with a door cracked open the slightest caught your intrest. The three of you continued walking down the hall, making sure to take quick glances over the shoulder to see that Susan or Tyler didn’t happen to appear out of nowhere. You stopped in front of the door and reached out a hand to push open the chipped wood, the squeaky hinges echo through the room. Your attention focused on the woman with her back turned toward the three of you. She was sitting in a wheelchair, looking out of the window and watching as the raindrops dripped down the glass.

“Mrs. Thompson?” Sam called out the woman’s name in a quiet voice. The three of you began to slowly approach the grandmother, not sure what to expect. But when there wasn’t a response from the older woman, he decided to try again. “Mrs. Thompson?”

When saw the woman face first; she was an old thing, shriveled down to the bone with frizzy white hair. She sat shaking in her chair, glancing at the three of you with worry beginning to creep in her eyes. You began to remember what Sherwin had said what the poor woman’s fate was after the hotel closing; a nursing home. You bent down and flashed a warm smile at her, knowing that is what she could have been thinking right now. “Hi, Mrs. Thompson. We’re not here to hurt you.” You said, your tone calm and quiet. “It’s okay. We…” You furrowed your eyebrows when you took a closer inspection of her psychical health. She tried speaking, but all that was coming out was little stutters and moans. You let out a quiet sigh, looking up at the brothers.

“Guys.” You whispered, nodding your head toward the other side of the room as you began walking so the three of you could have a quick talk. When there was enough distance between you and the older woman, you crossed your arms over your chest. “This woman’s had a stroke. I mean, she clearly can’t talk or move at all.“

"Yeah, but hoodoo’s hands-on.” Dean said in a quiet tone. You nodded your head when all of you realized that this woman wasn’t the one causing all of these deaths. “You got to mix herbs and chant, build an altar.”

“So it can’t be Rose.” Sam said. “Heck, maybe it’s not even hoodoo.”

“You know, she could be faking.” Dean mumbled, turning his attention to the woman again.

“What do you want to do, poke her with a stick?” You sarcastically implied a plan, not knowing the oldest brother was serious. He made a face and nodded his head. You quickly smacked him against the arm at his juvenile mind at thinking he could do such a thing. “Dude, you’re not gonna poke her with a stick.”

"What the hell?” You heard a familiar voice ring inside your ears. Quickly turning your head, your face dropped into panic when you saw Susan standing in the doorway, her facial expression was nothing more than anger. “What are you doing in here?”

“Uh, we just wanted to talk to Rose.” You were quick to lie, cringing when you heard the brothers mutter the same line. As if that was going to make anything better. But it only added fuel to everything of what was going on. Susan raced over to her mother’s side, placing an arm protectively over the woman when she saw the frightened expression on her face.

“Look at her. She’s scared out of her wits.” Susan scolded the three of you. “I want you out of my hotel in two minutes, or I’m calling the cops.”

You didn’t need to hear any more threats from the woman to know she was serious. Her cold stone glare was enough to make you nearly run out of the attic and back to your own hotel room. You might have not been out of there in two minutes, but six minutes was enough time before the three of you were in the Impala again, driving back to the open road with Susan making sure you were gone for good. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen.

\+ + +

A few hours had passed after getting kicked out of the hotel. You knew there wasn’t a chance of leaving the family alone for much longer. It was just a few more days before the end of the month, or the official date of the hotel closing. And if someone was killing off people that were trying to make sure this place closed for good, you had a feeling Susan was on top of the hit list. She might have inherited the home and turned it into a once successful hotel. But that was years ago. The business was failing and money was running out, her luck was running out.

Unfortunately you knew that there wasn’t a chance one of you could go and tell the woman the danger she was in, then the cops really would have been called. Luckily Dean parked away far enough away when the three of you came back to find out what was going on. Splitting up, Sam took the first floor of the house, Dean took the second and you took the outside. You had covered most of the backyard when you began to notice something off about the weather. Clutching your jacket tighter, you quickly brushed back any loose hairs that began flying from the wind that was quickly picking up.

You wandered around the grounds until you heard the sound of something like loud an engine coming from the other side. Turning your head, your face dropped in panic when you saw that Susan was in front of the hotel, but she wasn’t in the car. Letting a few swear words slip from your mouth, you quickly bolted for the woman when you realized what was about to happen.

You ran as fast as you could, watching from the corner of your eye as her car began to come to life. She was trying her hardest to run away from the vehicle, but she wasn’t fast enough. You made your legs go faster, rushing to her. With all your strength, you threw your arms around her and shoved her to the ground, making the both of you land on the wet grass with a thud. When you caught your breath, the both looked to see that car crashed straight into a tree. Susan sat on the ground, frozen with fear.

“You okay?” You asked the woman, taking in another deep breath.

“I think so.” She mumbled. Just seeing the look on her face, you knew she was still in shock at what just happened.

But your focus was ripped away from the woman when you felt someone’s arm wrap around your own, lifting you up from the ground with ease. Sam helped you up from the ground as the other brother went for Susan. “Come on. Come on. Let’s get inside.” He instructed the both of you, making the woman snap her attention away from the car crash again. “Let’s go.”

The four of you rushed inside the hotel, going to the bar to calm down the woman who was nothing more than pale and shaking like a leaf. As Sam guided her to one of the many tables around the room, Susan focused her attention on the three remaining bottles of booze sitting on the bartop. “Whisky.” She said, needing something to take off the edge of everything that was going on, too fast for her to take it. And you hadn’t even gotten to the core of the problem.

Sure.“ Sam said, heading over to the bar to grab the woman a drink. "I know the feeling.”

Susan managed to get herself seated on one of the chairs before she began throwing out questions at the both of you. “What the hell happened out there?” She asked.

“You want the truth?” Dean asked the woman, she nodded her head. As they say, honesty was the best policy. “Well, at first, we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that out there–that was definitely a spirit.”

Sam came back with the drink, but Susan’s gaze never left the other brother. She stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he had told her. “You’re insane.” She mumbled underneath her breath. She grabbed the glass and pressed it to her lips, downing the whisky in just one sip.

“It’s been said.” Dean commented. You gave the man a quick glare from the remark.

“Look, I’m sorry, Susan.” You said, deciding to be a bit more aggressive with the woman. Your patience was running a bit more thin than you thought. “We don’t exactly have time to ease you into this, but we need to know when your mother had the stroke.”

“What does that have to do—”

“Just answer the question.”

“About a month ago.” Susan answered, thinking about it for a moment.

“Right before the killings began. You see?” Sam said, knowing he could have been right along from what was going on. You turned your head to look at the man when he began to hypothesize out loud. “So what if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone, to protect them?”

“She was using the five-spot urns to ward off the spirits.” Dean said.

“Until she had a stroke and couldn’t do it anymore.” Sam continued, finishing up his thought.

“I don’t believe this.” Susan muttered underneath her breath. She looked at the three of you as if you were speaking in gibberish in front of her.

“Listen, sister, that car didn’t try to run you down by itself okay?” Dean said, giving the woman a look. But when he saw the fault, he quickly corrected himself in a line of rambles. “I mean, I guess it did technically, but with a spirit—”

“Shut up.” You said, putting out a hand for the man to stop talking. You took a seat across from the woman, officially having lost your patience with her. “Believe what you want, you but you and your family are in danger. So you need to clear everybody out of here–your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone.”

“Um,” Susan was quiet for a moment, trying to process what you had said to her. “I only have one daughter.”

“One?” You asked her with confusion. “I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie.”

“Maggie’s imaginary.” Susan explained to the three of you. You could feel your face drop in panic when you thought about the little girl.

“Where’s Tyler?”

\+ + +

Your stomach twisted in nervousness when thinking about what you had saw before checking into this hotel. Whenever children were involved into this mess, and the possibility that Tyler could have been in trouble, you were out of your seat quick as her mother. The four of you rushed up the staircase, you clutched the wooden with an iron grip to keep your feet from somehow making you fall from the pace you were going at. Susan screamed her daughter’s name again as she swung open the door to their own wing of the house, but stumbled on to something that left far from a pleasant feeling to sit in your mind.

The shelves of porcelain dolls were on the wooden floors, little pieces of eyes and faces were spread around the floor. You could feel yourself stare at the sight for a moment, but the shouts from the woman standing next to you quickly brought your thoughts back to the importance of the situation.

“Oh, my God. Tyler!” Susan screamed on the top of her lungs. She scurried out of the room to see if her daughter was hiding around in the balls while the three of you peeked around every cabinet big enough to fit a child her size. When there was no trace of the girl anywhere, Susan came back into the room with the dreaded news. “She’s not here.”

“Susan,” You looked at the woman, throwing questions at her to figure out this mystery first before tracing back to where her daughter could be. “What do you know about Maggie.”

“Um, I don’t know, not much.” She explained in a rushed, panicky voice. “Tyler’s started talking about her when Mom got sick.”

“Okay, good. Did you ever know anyone by that name?” You continued to throw all sorts of questions at her, trying to see if the woman could have known anything more. But when she began mumbling a no and shaking her head. Time was running out, so was your patience for the woman’s lack of answers 

“Think, think—somebody that could have lived here.” Dean tried to help Susan, giving her examples. “Might have passed away.”

Susan was quiet for a few moments as she forced herself to think. But when the thought came to her, her face dropped. “My God—my mother had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her.”

You rolled your eyes, not particularly in the mood to hear about the small details. “Did Margaret happen to die here as a kid?” You asked the woman, in a more harsher tone than you had thought. But it got the job done.

“She drowned in the pool.” Susan said.

You let a sharp breath escape through your nose, knowing what was about to happen if neither one of you were quick enough to stop this little spirit. “Come on.” You heard Dean say, but you were the first one out the door.

\+ + +

From exploring the grounds earlier, you had a somewhat clear idea of where the pool could have been. You ran as fast as your legs would have allowed you to, which seemed to have been better than the two other people that were twice your size. But adrenaline could be one hell of a drug when you allowed yourself to get sucked into a case. When you saw the tall building approach as you raced down the small grass path and peeked through the glass doors Susan called out her daughter’s name when she spotted the little girl standing at the edge of the banister. You reached out to swing open the door, but to your dismay, it was locked.

The glass was rather tough to break when you and Sam began pounding on it to see if it could break from the pressure. “Mommy!” Tyler called out, panic rising in her voice when she saw the woman. You looked up from the window just the slightest to see her, the fear in her eyes made your heart race with anxiety. And if that was enough, you heard her let out a tiny scream as something forced her to lose the grip of the metal railing, making her drop straight down into the pool.

“Is there another entrance?” Dean threw the question at the woman standing next to him.

“Around back.” She managed to say.

“All right. Let’s go.” Dean said to her before turning his attention to his little brother and you. “Keep working.”

Nodding your head, you heard the both of them before turning your full attention back to the glass door that didn’t want to break, no matter how much pressure either one of you were putting on it. So, someone can live without air for about four minutes, drowning has the same concept. It hasn’t been that long since Tyler fell, but you were still worried that neither one of you were going to make it in time to save the little girl. As you and Salm tried your hardest to see even the tiniest crack inside the glass, you were about to scream in frustration, but an idea quickly sparked inside your mind when you glanced down at your hand.

It had been a strange thing; you liked to wear your mother’s engagement ring from time to time, even from what you had learned around the woman. The small diamonds reflected off some of the sun that peeked through the clouds. When you caught sight of the heavy urn, you quickly thought of a plan that might just work. You just hoped your father didn’t cheat out and get cubic zirconia to show his love for the woman. Placing out an arm, you mumbled Sam for him to stop hitting. You ignored his protests, as they quickly died when you began to drag the diamond ring across, letting the scratching nose echo inside your ears before a large enough X was sketched into the glass.

“Real diamonds cut glass, I think. I read it somewhere. I don’t know. Maybe it will help us.” You tried to quickly explained. You bent down, grabbing the dead weeds from the urn and threw them to the ground. You wrapped your hands around each side of the pot and tried your hardest to lift it up. But when you realized it was too heavy, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a frustrated, “Son of a bitch!” fall from your lips at your lack strength.

But Sam mumbled your name, giving that as your cue to step out of the way and have him help out. He bent down and grabbed the urn, lifting up with a small grunt before heading back to the door. It took a few swings before you started to see the ripple of cracks in the glass. You could feel your anxiety rise up when you glanced down at your watch to see the time, it was already at the two minute mark. But you quickly ripped your head up when you heard glass breaking. You didn’t waste time in thinking about what do next; you knocked out a few heavy shards before you slipped yourself through the crack of the door that was big enough for you. You raced to the balcony and leaned down to see the sight you’d feared; Tyler was in the water, face down and floating.

You clutched the bar tighter when you looked down at the long jump ahead for you. Heights was something you always hated since you were a small child. And this wasn’t exactly helping you try and save the day. Taking in a deep breath, you forced yourself to swing over one of your legs before stepping on the outer edge of the balcony. Looking down, you knew you had to do this. Ignoring the images that flooded in your mind about that day, you leaped over the edge and went straight into the deep end of the pool, allowing the freezing water to engulf your body.

You opened your eyes and tried your hardest to push your body through the chlorine water, reminding yourself that there was enough time. You moved through the water, getting closer to the little girl. Your lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen, it had been a while since you went swimming. But you made yourself work through the pain, moving around in the water just enough until you caught Tyler. You cradled body into one arm and used the other to swim toward the surface. You moved as quick as you could until you were at the shallow end, allowing yourself to stand up and carrying her unconscious body to the concrete edge.

When you placed her down, you heard a few steps of footsteps come running down from the upper part of the building, you glanced up for a moment to see it was the brothers and Susan. You gave them a solemn look before focusing your attention on Tyler. You waited a moment to see if she would come back on her own. But if not, then you might have to use the rusty CPR skills you were taught during your years in high school. All though, you could feel your face jump into shock when she began to cough on her own, letting out any water that she might have inside her lungs. You let out a breath that didn’t even know you were holding, happy to know she was at least alive.

“Oh, thank God.” Susan mumbled out. Tears began to her eyes as she rested her daughter against her chest for comfort, knowing what just happened had made everyone shaky to wonder what the other outcome could have been. “Thank God.”

“Mommy?” Tyler whispered out the woman’s name in a timid voice.

“Yeah, baby,” Susan cooed at her daughter, letting a smile grow across her lips. “I’m here.”

“Tyler,” You looked at the little girl sitting in front of you. “Do you still see Maggie anywhere?”

She glanced around the area to see if she could have spotted her, but she shook her head. “No, she’s gone.”

You grabbed a hold of Sam’s hand that was in front of you. making sure to give him a smile from what the both of you were able to accomplish. You stepped out of the pool, soaked to the bone and freezing, but you saved yet another life. It sure as hell was worth the cold you were going to get.

\+ + +

All of you went back to the hotel after making sure everyone was okay from the freak accident. Susan and her daughter went back upstairs to grab the grandmother, knowing they didn’t want to spend another moment in here if they had to. But something was bothering the three of you. “I don’t get it.” Dean said, speaking of the question that you had been thinking about for the past few minutes. “Did Maggie just stop?” You just shrugged your shoulders, not knowing if something else had peeked her attention or if somehow she was scared away.

“Seems like it.” Sam said, seeming as lost as the both of you.

“Where the hell did she go?”

But the scream that you heard coming up from upstairs seemed more important. Neither one of you were going to take a second to figure out if that was Maggie’s doing. You and the brother rushed to the staircase, stomping up each step and running down the hall to see what the fuss was about. You could see Susan holding her daughter close to her chest, you pushed past the boys to see what the fuss was about. But you stopped in your tracks when you saw that Rose was slumped over in her wheelchair.

From the lack of movements, it was easy to say that she was dead. You had a feeling Maggie was the cause of it, but you kept your lips tightly pressed together. She wanted someone to play with. And since she couldn’t have Tyler, her great niece. Her little sister would have done the job just right. 

\+ + +

You sniffled a few times, grabbing a tissue from the police officer after you had sneezed for what felt to be the third time in the past few minutes. Smiling at the man, you turned your head to wipe your nose and Tyler continued to finish her story to the man about what had happened. A little lie about her accidentally falling into the pool was the easy reason to explain why each entrance to the place was broken into for insurance reasons.

You had stayed by Tyler’s side when she told her story and gave her little cues if she got confused, but you made sure that she was okay after everything that had happened. She seemed fine for the most part, not mentioning Maggie once since being with her. Rose was wheeled out into the coroner’s van as you heard some talk about the woman suffering a stroke, making all the loose ends tied up here in this hotel.

When you watched as the officer nodded his head at Tyler, you mumbled a thank you, watching as the man walked away to with the girl’s statement. You kneeled down so you were at eye level with her, you gave her a small smile. “How are you feeling, kiddo?” You asked her. She shrugged her shoulders, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a small chuckle. “I have to say, you’re a pretty brave kid. And look, I know how much it must hurt leaving this place. But just think of all the exciting things you have up for you. New homes mean new, safe adventures. I want you to remember that, okay?” Tyler nodded her head, her lips stretching into a smile at your advice. You stood up and nodded your head toward the open doors “All right, let’s go. Your mom’s waiting.”

The both of you walked side by side, heading out to the concrete steps to see the brothers and Susan waiting. You gave the woman a smile before glancing over at the boys, knowing they were wondering where you had wandered off to. “Ready to go, kiddo?” Susan asked her daughter. She nodded her head and stepped next to her mother.

“Tyler, you sure Maggie’s not around anymore?” You asked her, making sure to be safe before leaving.

“I’m sure.” She said. “I’d see her.“

You gave both of the women a smile before watching them head to the taxi that was waiting for them. "I guess whatever’s going on must be over.” Dean said, you nodded your head. The three of you followed behind to make sure the small family made it into the car. As Sam grabbed the backseat door for Tyler to slip inside, you peeked your head to give the girl one more smile before turning your focus on her mother.

“You two take care of yourselves, all right?” You said, trying to helpful. But when you watched as Susan reach over and give you a quick hug, you were a bit taken back by that. Not to be rude, you gave the woman a quick squeeze before pulling apart.

“Thank you.” She said in a sincere tone. You mumbled a yeah before she turned her attention to the brothers standing next to you. Of course, you could see the extra emotions she added into her facial expressions when she glanced over at Sam. You bit your lip, keeping from a grin spreading across your lips, not trying to ruin this heart-warming moment. “Both of you, too.”

With the nod of a head and the backseat door slammed shut, the three of you turned around and began to head back to the Impala. “Think you could have hooked up with some MILF action there, bud.” Dean couldn’t help himself but comment on what he had saw, giving his little brother a smirk. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a quiet laugh. “Serious, I think she liked you.”

“Yeah,” Sam let out a scoff from his brother’s remark work another. “That’s all she needs.

"Well, Y/N saved the mom, saved the girl. Not a bad day.” Dean said, glancing over at you with a continuous smirk. You let a cocky grin spread across your lips, teasing the man for the fun of it. “Course, you know, I could have saved them myself, but I didn’t want you to feel useless.”

“All right,” You said, rolling your eyes before letting out a small chuckle. “I appreciate that.”

“Feels good getting back in the saddle, doesn’t it?” Dean asked the both of you, reaching a hand inside his pocket to fetch out the keys. You nodded your head, opening your mouth to answer, but before you could stop it, another sneeze racked through your body. “Well, for most of us.”

Nodding your head once more, you excused yourself to sit down in the Impala. If you were getting a sick, you really weren’t in the mood to expose your body further to this kind of weather. Sam waited for you to slip inside the backseat and slam the door shut behind you before he brought up the touchy subject the brothers needed to discuss.

“But it doesn’t change what we talked about last night, Dean.” Sam said, making sure to keep his tone low enough so you wouldn’t go suspicious and start asking all sorts of questions.

“We talked about a lot of things last night.” Dean said, trying to be nonchalant about this.

“You know what I mean.” Sam mumbled.

“You were wasted.” Dean pointed out.

“But you weren’t…” Sam struck back that little flaw at his brother. “And you promised.”

“Hey,” You opened the door and peeked your body out halfway to jump into the conversation. You stared at the brothers for a few moments, trying to figure out what was causing them to look so glum. But they didn’t say anything to give you a hint from what they were discussing. “Are we gonna head out of here? Or do you wanna finish this little sharing is caring conversation in the car?”

Neither brother didn’t even try to make a comment back at the small remark you pulled. You watched as they both opened up the doors to the car and slid themselves inside. Your face scrunched up in confusion as you followed behind in their actions. You could hear the engine turn on again, and a few moments later, the three of you were off again. You tried to think of what could have made the brothers so distant and silent as you tried to trace your steps back from the previous few nights. But for the life of you, you could remember what it was.


	12. Nightshifter.

“I don’t know. Don’t you think this is a bad idea?“ You observed the official badge that made you an officer of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It was a title in which you never thought you’d get to play a role of for a case. All though one in particular had lead to you some city in Wisconsin, a string of robberies, usually high end jewelry stores or banks, with quite an unusual pattern. All the suspects involved in the crimes ended up dead shortly after being reported to the police. The reports that you read had noted there no foul play detected. Though there were all sorts of hints that this could have been your kind of gig, the tile you were going to play made you a bit nervous to see the outcome. Your track record for playing cops wasn’t well.

"Hey, if you want to sit this—”

“Who said I was chickening out?” You questioned the older man with a slight frown. You knew this was his typical tactic to get you or his brother on a case when either one of you were a bit skeptic to be apart of it. But it was always treat you like a child, pretend like you can’t handle a case like this. A few minutes later, you’re practicing the lines in front of the mirror to make sure you aren’t the one to screw anything up. “Of course I’m on board. Give me forty-five minutes.”

\+ + +

You shoved your hands inside your jacket and peeked down at the glass display of all the accessories that were decked out in all sorts of gems that reflected off in the fluorescent lights. The last known robbery had taken place in a high-end jewelry store just in the middle of the city; one of the top employees decided to have snuck in here during the middle of the night and grabbed only the most expensive pieces. The owner was in the back of the store, grabbing all of the accesories that the police had managed to find so you and Sam could take a look at them after interviewing him to see what else he knew about that night.

You caught sight of another reflection in the glass which brought your attention over to the other side of the store. Of course, Dean was busying himself talking to the young, female employee. A small scoff threatened to escape your mouth, but the scowling look from the youngest brother standing next to you made your lips press together. Soon enough, you focused yourself on what was important, the owner coming back with a display full of the previously stolen jewelry. You couldn’t help but gawk at the size of the rocks as the owner passed by you, heading over to the other side of the display counter. As that old saying goes; diamonds are a girl’s best friend. And from what the owner was going on about the woman, she took the words to heart.

“Helena was our head buyer. She was family—you know? She said it herself every year at the christmas party.” The owner went on about his past employee. He seemed to have been still taken back by the turn of events, how someone so respected could have gone dark and abused her job for her own greedy desires. “She said it herself every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had.”

“So there was never any signs that she’d do something like this.“ Sam asked the man.

"No…still can’t believe it, even now.” The owner admitted. You listened as he retold the story about what had happened in his own words. “That night, Helena came back to the store after closing, cleaned out all the display cases and the safe. Edgar, our night watchman—he caught her in the act. He didn’t know what to do. He’d known her for years. He called me at home.”

“And that’s when she took his gun?” You asked. Even though you read about tragic event, it seemed appropriate enough to make sure the detail matched the police report.

“She shot him in the face.” He said. There was a quiet pause, the small flashback of that night’s gruesome events passed around in his mind before he got the courage to speak again. “I heard him die over the phone.”

“Any idea what her motive could have been?” You questioned the man. But the puzzled look that stretched across his face wasn’t very pleasing to think that you were going to find a proper answer.

“What motive? It makes no sense.” He said, shaking his head slightly. “Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewelry, and then, what, just dump it somewhere? Just hide it and then go home.”

Of course, when she got back to her apartment, that’s when things only got stranger. She made herself a nice, hot bath to relax. That’s when the strange part of this case kicked in—-she just threw in the hair dryer, killing herself for a job well done.

“So you never saw the security footage yourself, then.” Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck before placing it down on the glass display. You turned your head slightly when you saw the other brother coming back to the three of you, his attention stuck on a small piece of paper in hand.

"The police—they took all the tapes first thing.” The owner explained the one flaw.

“Of course they did.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes at his unwanted opinion. He always managed to put it in somewhere, that was for sure.

\+ + +

After scratching off the jewelry store from your lists of places to check out, the next stop on the list was a witness and night guard for one of the recent banks that was hit. Reading his statement was quite an adventure. Unfortunately without tapes to view, the only real evidence you had was being held by a man name Ronald Resnick.You could feel the car slowly ease to a stop, turning your head, you saw the man’s residence just across the street. Closing the case file you were managing to read particularly in the dark, you tossed it across the seat and reached for the handle to get yourself out of the car first. As you pulled down your skirt, you looked up when you heard Dean mumble another comment underneath his breath.

“Freaking cops.” He said with annoyance, slamming the car door in frustration.

“They were just doing their job.” You tried to reason with the man, but that only sparked more controversy between the two of you.

“No, they’re doing our job, only they don’t know it, so they suck at it.” Dean said in a matter-of-fact voice, making you roll your eyes at his logic of thinking. But you followed behind the brothers as they began to head to the front door of the man’s residence. “Talk to me about this bank.”

“Milwaukee National Trust,“ Sam started to explain what he knew about the past crime. "it was hit about a month ago.”

"Same M.O. as the jewelry store?” Dean asked.

“Yup, inside job, longtime employee, the ‘never in a million years’ type. Of course, that makes the perfect cover, if you ask me.” You continued, showing what information you read over on the way to the witness’ house. "The guy robs the banks, goes home and supposedly commits suicide.”

“This guy Resnick was the security guard on duty?” Dean asked another question.

You nodded your head, watching your step as you made your way up the porch. “Yeah, he was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place.” You could see Dean wince at that imagery, you could empathize with the man. Something like that wasn’t fun, you knew the feeling from your own personal experience. Working these cases do come with a hefty price.

While examining the outside of this place, you heard Sam loudly knock on the door. “Mr. Resnick!” He called out, waiting for someone to come. The front door was opened up, just leaving the clear glass to be able to peek inside. After a moment of waiting, Sam tried again. “Ronald Resnick.”

The three of you waited for a few seconds longer before you got something; suddenly a bright strobe light came on, flashing directly in the eyes. You quickly put up a hand to block out the light as you diverted your attention away to make the spots you were seeing stop. You let out something slip from your mouth before managing to get your eyesight slightly adjusted to the brightness you weren’t expecting, allowing you to see the man you were looking for finally approach. “FBI, Mr. Resnick.” You informed the man, dropping your hand to your side again so you could look at him in the eye.

“Let me see the badge.” He instructed. You shoved a hand inside your jacket pocket and pulled out the fake I.D. to slam it against the glass door, pinning it up with the brothers’. Ronald leaned over to inspect them for a moment before looking at the three of you again. But it seemed that he wasn’t feeling too chatty tonight. “I already gave my statement to the police.”

“Listen, Ronald,” Dean decided to try and persuade the man, shoving his badge back inside his pocket before continuing. “Just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on.”

“You read it?” Ronald asked, seeming a bit surprised. You nodded your head as your lips stretched into a smile. Well, you sure did. “Come to listen to what I got to say?”

“That’s why we’re here.” Dean said.

Ronald stare at the three of you for a few moments, he was acting as if all of you were playing some practical joke. But when he began to realize from the serious faces you kept giving him, you were here on business terms. “Well,” He finally spoke up,reaching out a hand for the door to swing open. “Come on in.” You gladly stepped in first to the home with the brothers following behind. Ronald lead you deeper into the house as he took lead, you knew it was just the matter of time before he got comfortable enough to let his opinion on everything come shining through.

“See, none of the cops ever called me back, no after I told them what was really going on. They thought I was crazy.” Ronald rambled on about his theory. You nodded your head as you walked into the living room, but you could feel your eyes being drawn away from the man to the walls. Your mouth dropped open just the slightest at the things that were posted on the walls; all sorts of pictures of aliens, doodles of spaceships and tracking information. It was like you just stepped into an episode of the X-Files. Now you were waiting for the theme music to start playing. “First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National trust. That I guarantee.”

You couldn’t help but think that the man was knocked around a bit too much during his attack, but the evidence that was pinned on his walls made it known that he had spent months on collecting this sort of information. Letting out a quiet breath, you turned your attention back on the man who was still going on. “See, me and Juan were friends. He used to come back the bank on my night shifts, and we’d play cards.”

"So you let him into the bank that night,” Sam said, disturbing the man away from the small TV he was tinkering around with. “after hours.”

“The thing I let into the bank…it wasn’t Juan.” Ronald tried to explain. But your face scrunched up, wondering what he meant. “I mean, it had his face, but it wasn’t his face. Every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a doll maker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan doll.”

“A Juan doll?” You repeated, trying to make sure you heard the man right.

“Look, this wasn’t the only time this happened.” Ronald said, handing over a file he had been working on to Sam. He looked at the man for a moment before opening it up to take a peek to see what laid inside. You leaned over slightly to see that most of the same crimes you had been investigating were here; all the same newspaper clippings, notes that you had scribbled down. “There was this jewelry store, too, and the cops and you guys, you just won’t see it. Both crimes were pulled by the same thing.”

“And what’s that, Mr. Resnick?” Sam asked, drawing his gaze upwards to see the answer.

Ronald leaned down and picked up a magazine that made you want to smack yourself in the face for what the title read; Birth of the Cybermen. All of you were talking to one of the idiots that we weren’t alone in this universe, wore aluminum hats and believed in the uprising of the machinery that would happen in the near future. “Chinese been working on them for years, and the Russians before that—part man, part machine.” He continued on with this thought, which made it harder for you to take the man seriously. No wonder the cops didn’t believe him. The man was a nutjob. “Like the terminator, but the kind that can change itself, making itself look like other people.”

“Like the one from 'T2.’” Dean said, getting the reference the man was trying to make.

“Exactly!” Ronald shouted, his face lighting up like a small child on Christmas. You and Sam looked over at the older man, giving him a quick glare as the rambles continued on. “So not just a robot. More of a—a man-droid.”

“A man-droid?” Sam repeated the man.

“What makes you so sure about this, Ronald?” You couldn’t help yourself but throw the question out there, just wanting to get to the evidence you were itching to see. “Show us what you got.”

Ronald quickly broke out into a toothy grin, pointing his index finger at the three of you before disappearing from sight. You heard him shouting something that he needed to get something and to take a seat somewhere. You let out a quiet sigh, knowing very well that all of this was just the tip of the iceberg. You sat down on the armrest of the couch, watching as Ronald came back into the room a few moments later with a VHS tape, before heading over and pressing it into the player. Something was written in Sharpie, but you couldn’t quite read it from where you were.

“I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them, they’d be buried.” Ronald said, grabbing the remote before facing the three of you. Well, you had to admit one thing, the man was thorough about his research. The TV screen soon was displaying the security tapes from the bank. Ronald fast forward a bit before you saw the man Juan come on screen, seeming innocent enough with a smile as he back up toward the front desk. “Now watch. Watch.” You leaned in closer, trying to see something out of the ordinary. “Watch him. Watch. Watch. See, look! There it is! You see?” Your face fell when the man in the video turned his head just enough for the camera, confirming what was going on. “He’s got the laser eyes.”

You turned your head to look at the boys; it wasn’t a cyborg you were hunting, it was a shapeshifter. “Cops said it was some kind of reflected light, some kind of 'camera flare.’ Okay?” Ronald said, seeming that he was so sure that something was strange about this man. And he might have been right about that, but he was very wrong about what was really going on. But it didn’t stop him from the continuous rambles. “Ain’t no damn camera flare. They say I’m a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me. It don’t matter.”

He turned around to his large map of the city to pin the recent article to the board before back at you three. “The mandroid is still out there. If the law won’t hunt this thing down, I’ll do it myself. You see, this thing, it kills the real person, makes it look like suicide, then sort of morphs into that person, cases the job for a while till it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening.Now, these group of robberies, they’re grouped together.”

He leaned over and gestured toward the small map of the city. The places that were robbed he had circled with a red marker. As you listened to him go on, he was so right about everything, but the actual species that was doing the crimes. “So I figured this mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle—underground maybe—I don’t know. M-Maybe that’s where it recharges its m-mandroid batteries.”

“Okay. I want you to listen very carefully.” Sam said. He placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself up into a standing position. You looked over at the man, wondering what his next plan of action was going to be as you got yourself up from the couch, too. “Cause I’m about to tell you the God’s honest truth about all of this.” You and his older brother waited, but what happened next wasn’t what either one of you were expecting to see from the mind that was always kind hearted to everyone he met. This was just cold. “There’s no such thing as mandroids. There’s nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. It’s just people. Nothing else. You understand?”

Ronald’s face dropped at what he was hearing, “The laser eyes—”

“Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick.” Sam quickly explained, giving the man not enough time to speak of his opinion again. You had heard enough of it tonight, after all. “I know you don’t want to believe this, but your friend Juan robbed the bank, and that’s it.”

“Get out of my house!” Ronald shouted, pointing his finger at the door. “Now!”

“Sure.” Sam said, but none of you were going to leave empty handed. “First things first.” 

\+ + +

You kicked off your heels across the room and tugged off your jacket, throwing it to the motel bed where the rest of your belongings were. You didn’t expect to have had the interview with that man to have gone sour so quickly. But a few lies here and there, all of you had left with everything Ronald had been working on, which worked out in your favor.

You quickly changed from the Fed clothes to some more comfortable ones for the research that you still needed to help with back at the boys’ motel room, God knows there was enough to keep the three of you up until the wee hours of the night. As you made it down the hall and to the room that was a few doors down from our own, you knocked a few times before seeing Sam open up the door. You caught sight of the tapes hanging from his grip as you followed behind him into the room.

“Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up.” Dean was going on about what his little brother had done. His back was turned to you as he observed all the materials he pinned to the wall for further examination. “When you told that poor son of a bitch to—what did you say, ‘remand’ the tapes that he copied?”

“Oh, my favorite was, ‘classified evidence of an ongoing investigation.’ That’s pretty messed up, Sammy.” You couldn’t help yourself but join in on the torment. “And very unexpected from someone like you. The man who never wants to hurt people’s feelings.” 

“What are you guys, pissed at me?” Sam questioned as he turned around in his chair that was in front of the TV. He had done the right thing, this was pretty good information.

“No, I just think it’s a little creepy how good of a Fed you are.” Dean said, settling himself down at the table. “We could have thrown the guy a bone. He did some good legwork here.”

“But that whole, ‘android’ thing he was trying to pull?” You asked, shaking your head.

“Except for the mandroid part.” Dean mumbled. “I liked him. He’s not that different from you and me. People think we’re crazy.” 

“Yeah, except he’s not a hunter.” Sam said, pointing out the obvious truth. “He’s just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing, he’d get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark and stay alive.”

Now there was a motto you could agree to. You took a few steps forward to look at the TV; Sam had stopped it directly at the part where you could identity the monster you were dealing with. A scoff escaped your mouth, shaking your head at the thing. “Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis.” You said. “Same retinal reaction to video. Eyes flare at the camera.”

“I hate those freaking things.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

“You think we don’t?” You questioned the man, giving him a look.

“One didn’t turn into you and frame you for murder.”

“Yeah? You weren’t kidnapped, threatened to be its next victim and nearly choked to death by the damn thing.”

“Well, look,” Sam spoke up next, “If this shifter’s anything like the one we killed in Missouri–”

“Then Ronald’s right.” Dean said, finishing up his brother’s sentence. “All right, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. All the robberies have been connected so far, right? Through the, uh, sewer main layout.” He examined the piece of wax-like paper and map he’d been tracing before he found the connection and the next possible hit. “There’s one more bank lined up on that same sewer main.”

\+ + +

You followed behind the brothers as you subconsciously tugged at the tacky jumpsuit called a uniform, your eyes wandered around the floor of the City Bank of Milwaukee to see the group of people that were doing business today or the tellers behind the counter. Mostly everyone seemed friendly enough, sharing a few smiles and making small talk to pass the time or discussing topics involving their financials. You drew your attention back toward the security guard that was previously talking to the three of you about the security scan you were going to be doing this afternoon. It was a bogus, good enough of a cover that would allow access to the cameras, just to see if all of you could play the game of “Who Isn’t Human” before another victim was wrapped up in this shifter’s greedy behavior. Tugging one more time, you finally drew your eyes back on the man as he continued making small talk.

“Well, we haven’t had any flags go up on our system yet.” The guard said, still seeming to think this wasn’t a necessary precaution. But Dean was quick to jump in, reassuring the man about the faulty scan with a few lies that seemed to have sounded professional enough.

“No, no, this is a glitch in the overall grid.” Dean explained to security guard, walking a bit faster so he was standing next to him now. “Just want to make sure the branch monitors are kosher.”

“Better to be safe than sorry, I guess.” The man mumbled, nodding his head at the new information that was given to him.

“That’s the plan.” You said, giving him a quick smile when you see his head twist over to you after speaking up for the first time.

The four of you continued walking deeper into the bank, passing by the sleek interior of the front before stepping into a narrow hallway that directed you into the control room. The security guard stopped at one of the first doors at the right, swinging it open to reveal a small room. You stepped in first to see the wall across the room had several small TV; six to be exact in rows of three, all with perfect angles of the bank. Your noticed only two chairs for three bodies.

You took one giant step forward so you were in the lead, happy at least to know you weren’t going to be the one standing for however long this would take. You gripped your fingers around the edges of the black leather chair, turning your head forward when the guard spoke up again to the three of you, making sure everything was alright before he departed to continue the rest of his shift.

“All righty. You guys need anything?” The guard asked. He continued to hold open the door, giving the three of you a pleasant stare, waiting to see if there were any requests that needed to be filled. You shook your head, returning with another small smile out of politeness.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Sam reassured the older man, just enough so none of you could be disturbed again during your time here. “We’ll be in and out. Just a routine check.”

“Okey dokey.” Was all the guard said before stepping out back into the hall and shutting the door behind him. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, not knowing the last time you heard someone say an old catchphrase like that.

“I like him. He says ‘okey dokey.’” Dean couldn’t help himself but comment on the matter, letting a small smile spread across his lips while him and his brother headed for the monitors.

“What if he’s the shifter?” You question the man, knowing very well everyone was a prime suspect until you caught sight of them in the security cameras. You twist around the chair and plop yourself down before you turn another degree so you’re staring at the monitors again.

“Well, then, we follow him home, put a silver bullet through his chest plate.” Dean said, grabbing the other chair that was beside you, making his brother grab the one across the room. When the three of you settled down after a moment, you put both your elbows on the control panel and rested your head in your palm. “Okay. You guys got any popcorn?”

About an hour passed of watching the monitors and everything seemed to have been checking out as ordinary. You leaned back in your seat and watched as the camera labeled for the vault zoomed in on the extra friendly security guard. He seemed to have been keeping conversation with one of the bankers, still making himself seem normal enough in his behavior to raise no suspicion. And there was no reflection going off in his eyes in the cameras, either. Everyone that you had seen during your observation had checked out, too. If your shifter was here, they must have been feeling a bit camera shy to show their face they chose for the future heist.

“Looks like Mr. Okey Dokey’s…” Dean spoke up, breaking the small silence that had previously fallen over the three of you. And you could feel your eyes beginning to roll up in annoyance from his tacky joke that he at least thought was funny. “Okey dokey.”

“Maybe we jumped the gun on this, Dean. We don’t even know if it’s here.” Sam said. You had to agree with the younger man on his point. Nobody here had fit the profile you were searching for. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The possibilities of how this day could go were endless. “Maybe we should just go to the sewers and…and…”

You turned your head to the man sitting next to you when he began to trail off, setting his gaze toward the camera in the top middle. When you glanced up to see what had caught the men’s attention, you knew the other brother was up to no good. Dean had managed to get sidetracked, zooming onto a woman’s rear end as she bent over to get something from a low cabinet.

“Even though I know your head’s up your own ass most of time, I don’t think hers is down there.” You reminded the man, making him break his attention away from the monitor for the moment as he turned his head to look at you from the remark. “We’re supposed to be looking for eyes, Dean.”

“I’m getting there, Y/N.” He said, zooming back out to make the monitor normal again.

“Oh, yeah?” You asked him.

“Yeah.” Dean mumbled. He managed to get his gaze away from the middle screen toward the bottom right, he leaned in his seat to take a closer look at his suspicion. You and Sam caught what the other man had been staring at, the sight wasn’t hard to miss. It was the reason why you were here. “Wait a minute.”

You watched as the camera zoomed in on a man dressed in a suit, seeming normal looking enough, until, he turned his head to the camera. It was just enough to see the flare light up in his eyes, making him stand out like a sore thumb from all of his fellow co workers. "Hello, freak.” You murmured in delight, happy to know this search was over.

“Got him.” Sam mumbled to himself.

The youngest brother wasn’t waiting for another moment to pass; you watched from the corner of your eye as he jumped out of his seat and head for the door. You and Dean were about to follow in his actions. But as you placed both hands on the armrests and lifted yourself up, you glanced at the top right camera that showed the entrance to the bank, just out of curiosity. You dropped yourself down and let out a quiet groan of annoyance from what you saw. Calling out the man’s name loud enough for him to hear, you stopped Sam from stepping any further near the door.

“What?“ Sam asked you, his voice sounding a bit annoyed from the interruption.

You kept your gaze on the screen, watching as the man you had spoke to before came inside the bank, looking like a paranoid mess, frantically turning his head around a few times before bolting out of sight. But it was easy to catch the assault rifle and duffel bag. And the chains that were cuffed around thee only exit out of here. Looks like he wanted to play vigilante, making your job a hell of a lot harder.

"Hello, Ronald.” You said. letting out a quiet sigh from the sudden situation all of you were thrusted into without much of a warming. You let out a quiet sigh and pushed yourself up from the seat.

There weren’t any warning signs that Ronald was the type of man that was even the slightest bit trigger happy. Or even was willing to go to this sort of length to spot the monster who he thought was in charge of all these deaths. Sure, he was obsessed at finding out what was causing all of these peculiar suicide his good friend was a part of. It seemed that he got tired of hearing people denying his theory something strange was going on. All though he might have been right, you knew one thing was clear, all of you had to get out there and stop him before someone innocent got a bullet in them by accident.

When the three of you slipped out of the room and began heading down the hallway, you knew things weren’t going well from the echoing sounds of warning gunshots going off and two employees frantically running from the mess. Only a crazy person would think it would have been a good idea to go into danger without even a weapon or a plan of action to stop. But Ronald wasn’t here to rob the bank, he was here to find out what killed his friend. Maybe a few sympathetic words of encouragement to stop what he was about to do was morally wrong. And tell him what really was going on seemed like a pretty good idea. If all of you had told him in the first place, maybe this situation could have been avoided.

“And you said we shouldn’t bring guns.” Dean mocked his little brother, managing to keep himself from bumping into a woman that nearly slammed herself into him by accident from the frantic past she was going. Sam had previously pointed out the idea of carrying a concealed weapon would have raised some suspicion, not knowing if the pace had any metal detectors that would go off and blow the cover all of you were trying to use.

“I didn’t know this was gonna happen, Dean.” Sam said, trying to defend himself.

“Let us do the talking.” Dean said, making up a quick plan as the three of you were beginning to head closer to the floor of the bank. “I don’t think he likes you, Agent Johnson.”

You ignored the comment the oldest brother slipped out, knowing that Sam might have left a pretty harsh first impression on the man waving around a gun. You continued walking until you heard Ronald’s voice booming through the building, just loud enough to echo and hear what he was going on about. You leaned over the door just enough to see the man standing with the remaining people were crouched on the floor, all lined up and against the counter, looking scared out of their mind.

“There’s only one way in or out of here, and I’ve chained it up, so nobody’s leaving, you understand?”

With a nod as a signal to move in, you knew the best thing to do was try and menour the attention away before someone became an accidental victim. “Hey, buddy.” You were the first one to step out into the sight, giving the man across the room a smile. You slowly approached him with your hands up in a surrendering motion, making it known you were just here to talk to him. “Why don’t you calm down, okay? Just calm down.”

“What?” Ronald’s face scrunched up with confusion for just a moment. You could see the gun quickly going back up when he was quick to realize who all of you were. It hadn’t been that long since all of you had talked, and it seemed he was still holding that grudge after all of you had took his hard research. “You! Get on the floor! Now!”

“Okay, we’re doing that.” Dean said. It didn’t take another shouted command for the three of you to slowly drop to your knees and do exactly what the man ordered. “Just don’t shoot anybody, especially us.”

“I knew it—as soon as you three left. You ain’t FBI? Who are you? Who are you working for, huh?” Ronald questioned all of you. His suspicions of fictional agencies were nothing short than wrong. You kept your lips in a tight line, but you could feel them twitch the slightest when you heard Sam let out a quiet chuckle to himself as the other man continued. “The Men in Black? You working for the mandroid?”

“Weren’t not working for the mandroid!” Sam tried to defend all of you, but failed miserably short after speaking.

“You shut up!” Ronald commanded, cutting the other man from saying anything else. He pointed a finger at the man as he continued to yell. “I ain’t talking to you! I don’t like you!”

You couldn’t help yourself but give the man next to you a smirk, knowing you and his older brother was right. Sam just shrugged his shoulders, knowing that the previous actions thrown at him were justiciable. “Fair enough.” He mumbled, knowing it was time for him to back down.

Ronald thinked to himself for a few moments of what to do next with the extra bodies. He turned his attention toward the crowd of people and pointed his gun at someone in particular. “Get over there. Frisk them down,” He ordered at an older man that looked to have raided Bill Huxtable’s sweater collection before coming to work this morning. “Make sure they got no weapons. Go!”

You watched as the man scurried up from his spot on the floor and rushed over to the three of you for a quick pat down. Sam was first with a quick sweep and coming up clean, you were next with the man moving down to find that you weren’t carrying anything, even though you were regretting it now. Dean was the last one, who was now beginning to grow nervous. The man worked his way down until he came down the ankles. But he stopped when he felt something underneath the fabric. You turned your head to look down to see what he had found. He tugged up the pant sleeve to reveal a silver dagger tucked in Dean’s boot. The man pulled it out and lifted it up just enough for Ronald to see.

“And what have we here?” Ronald asked, stepping forward to claim the knife.

You gave the oldest brother a frustrated glare, knowing that none of you were getting on the man’s good side with this kind of behavior. “What? I’m not just gonna walk in here naked.” Dean mumbled, as if that were to make his previous actions okay.

“Give that there.” Ronald grabbed the blade and headed for the deposit box, ignoring the protests that Dean was mumbling out. But the three of you watched as he dropped the knife down the small compartment, leaving any chances of killing this shifter disappear in just a blink of an eye as the blade clanked down.

“Look, Ronald, we know you don’t want to hurt anybody.” You said, trying again to get this man from jumping off the deepend. “But that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep waving that gun around. Why don’t you let these people go?”

“No!” The man shouted, ignoring your second attempt at talking to him. “I already told you. If nobody’s gonna stop this thing, then I’ve got to do it myself!”

“We believe you!” Dean said, using the same tone as the other man was. “That’s why we’re here.”

“You don’t believe me! Nobody believes me! How could they?” Ronald seemed more of a wounded puppy just trying do the right thing than someone who was capable of murder. It was time to let him on the truth before someone really got hurt.

“Come here.” You mumbled.

“What?” He asked with confusion, acting as if you were going to attack him yourself. “No.”

“You’re holding the gun, boss. You’re calling the shots. We just want tell you something.” Dean reassured the man, making it known none of you were going to try and pull a move. Ronald glanced around a few times before slowly making his way over to the three of you. His gun was pointed and ready to shoot, but you knew he was more interested in what all of you had to tell him as he leaned in closer. “It’s the bank manager.” Ronald’s face scrunched up at the new information. “Why do you think we got these getups, huh? We’ve been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes.”

“His laser eyes?” Ronald whispered, his voice rising with hope.

“Yes. No. No! We’re running out of time.” Dean said, shaking his head from the previous accusations he remembered the man going on about from the other night. “We got to find him before he changes into someone else.”

“Like I’m gonna listen to you. You’re a damn liar.” Ronald said, not giving into the truth. Well if you can’t beat them at their own game, you might as well join them. You slowly got up to your feet, but it wasn’t going unnoticed, you watched as the man quickly switched the gun over at you, threatening you with words that didn’t make you flinch. “I’ll shoot you! Get down!”

“Take me.” You said, managing to get up on your feet without a bullet being lodged into your body as a warning. Ignoring the protest glares from the brothers, you knew it was the only angle that you had right now that seemed sane enough to keep an innocent person from dying. “Take me as your hostage.“

“Wait, wait. Make that one more.” Dean decided to play along, slowly getting himself up from the ground so he was now offering himself over like you just did. “But we got to act fast because the longer we just sit here, the more time he has to change.”

“Look at me, Ronald.“ You said, getting the man to focus his attention back on you. “We believe you. You’re not crazy. There really is something inside this bank. And we want it out, just as much as you. But like he said, we need to start moving.” 

Ronald thought about it for a few moments as he debated with himself at the plan. But you knew the man was on board when his lips twitched into a small smirk. "All right. Y-You two come with me.” He said, pointing a finger. All before he had both hands on the gun again and waving it at the other people. “But everyone else gets in the vault!”

It wasn’t how you wanted this to go, but at least you could know where everyone was while the three of you hunted down where the shifter was. You followed behind in the line of people that were marching toward the back of the bank and straight for the most secure place in this entire building. But Ronald’s shouts and commands weren’t exactly the helping the situation. “Come on, move! Move, move!” He said, watching as everyone soon was now safe inside. He pointed the gun at Dean as he nodded his head toward the heavy door. “Then you lock it up.”

Knowing that there wasn’t a chance to avoid this situation, Dean did what he was told. He grabbed the edges of the metal door and began to slowly close it shut. “It’s okay, everyone.” Dean said, catching the panicked expressions of the people inside at what was happening. “Just stay cool.”

When you heard the door slam shut, Ronald was quick with more commands. “Now spin that.” He said, gesturing toward the round handle that would lock everyone inside. “Spin that there.” Round and round the handle went, the lock was just another gesture to know that this really had turned into a hostage situation. You had just hoped the cops weren’t informed yet. Maybe you there was still some time left to get this case done and move on, without even causing more trouble than what was already done.

“I’m going change out of this stupid uniform.” You said, tugging at the collar one more time. As you took a step to the other side of the room for some privacy, you noticed a shadow that was trying to follow behind you. Letting out a quiet sigh from the man’s paranoia, you gave him a warning glare. Gun or no gun, you weren’t going to let this man think you were afraid of him. “Stand there with your backs turned. You even think about taking a peek and I’ll snap your neck like a twig.”

Ronald seemed to have understood your small threat and did what he was told, turning around so he could focus his eyes something else for the moment. You kicked off your shoes and unzipped the uniform, tugging it all the way down until it was off your body. You fixed your normal clothing and put your shoes back on, clearing your throat when you were done with the task. Soon, the three of you were off again, wandering around the building to see where the shifter could be. You allowed Ronald to take the lead, peeking inside the office of the bank manager, wondering if someone could have been hiding back there. He cautiously scoped around the place before bolting inside.

When the coast seemed to have been clear, you and Dean followed behind. “Check behind the desk.” You ordered the man with the gun, nodding your head for the other one to take a peek inside the other room. You headed over to what you were presuming was the closest. You only managed to open up the door and peek at the floor before your head quickly whipped to the desk from an unexpected outburst.

“Ugh!” Ronald yelled out. He must have fallen on something from the floor, slipping right on his back with a loud thud. You raced over to the desk with Dean coming over, throwing his uniform to the ground before finding what the commotion was about. Ronald turned his head to see what it was, but it wasn’t what he was expecting. When his eyes adjusted from the darkness, he quickly scrambled up to his feet. “Ahh! Ahh!” He screamed in disgust, pointing the gun at the goo. You looked at him with worry, leaning over to see what it was. “What the hell is that?”

You turned around the small desk lamp to the mess, allowing the light to reflect off the mess that covered the ground. Your nose scrunched up when you recognized the flesh colored mess with little drops of blood mixed in. The clothes weren’t exactly a good little detail to find, either. Dean crouched down to take a closer look, but the both of you knew what it was. “Oh, great. “When it changes form, it sheds its old skin” He explained to the man. “Now no it could be anybody.”

“Don’t touch it!” You nearly screamed in horror, but it was too late. Ronald picked up a small slab of skin, examining the texture of the flesh before taking a sniff.

“So weird.” Ronald mumbled to himself, looking up at you two for more answers. “Its robot skin is so lifelike.”

"Okay, let’s get something straight. It’s not a mandroid. It’s a shapeshifter.” You said, snapping from the constant wrong terms he was still believing in. He repeated the creature that you had told him, you nodded your head. “It’s human, more or less. It has a human drive like you and me. In this case, it’s money.” Your nose scrunched up when he flicked off the goo, making a certain unpleasant noise echo in your ears. “But it generates its own skin. It can shape it to match someone else’s features.”

“So i-it kills someone and then takes their place.” Ronald said, you shrugged your shoulders from his hypothesis.

“Kills them—I don’t think it matters.” Dean muttered. He caught sight of something that you were standing right next to, something that could have made this hunt a lot easier.

“What are you doing?” Ronald questioned, catching sight of the silver knife the other man was reaching for. You looked down to see the blade was a mail opener, a fancy one that that from the details carved into the handle before Dean snatched it up to take a close inspection, just to make sure.

“Nice.” Dean said to himself with a victorious smile. He lifted up the silver knife for Ronald to see. “You remember the old werewolf stories? Pretty much came from these guys. Silver’s the only thing I’ve seen that hurts them.”

With that knew found knowledge given to the man, you watched as Dean twirled around the knife before heading out the door. You followed behind before looking over your shoulder. “Come on, Ronald.” You shouted out, walking further into the hall. A few seconds later, you heard another pair of footsteps coming from behind and the door to the office quietly shut behind.

The three of you began on your search again through the bank, coming back to the front of the building. Most of the noise was just footsteps echoing off the walls and unattended phones ringing off the hook in the background. But something like a manic chuckle caught your attention. You swivel your head over your shoulder to see Ronald was laughing, acting as if everything that was happening was amusing. “What are you, nuts?” Dean asked the man.

“That’s just it. I’m not nuts.” Ronald said with a grin. It seemed that after telling what was really going on made him see the light.. “I mean, I was so scared that I was losing my marbles, but this is real. I mean, I-I was right. Except for the mandroid thing. Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” You mumbled, giving the man a weak smile. You began to take a step forward to begin walking, but immediately stopped in your tracks when everything suddenly turned pitch black for a split second. Just a few seconds later, the generator kicked. You spotted a light coming from above that gave you a decent amount of coverage to find your way around.

“Damn it.” Dean hissed underneath his breath. He began to look around, knowing exactly what the both of you had feared was now happening. You heard him mumble out a few rushed nos.

“What is it?” Ronald asked with worry.

“They cut the power.” You informed the man, as if it wasn’t noticeable enough. Running your fingers through your hair in frustration, you began to slowly pace around in a small circle. “It’s probably their way of saying hello.”

“Who?”

“Cops.”

“The cops?” Ronald repeated. You made yourself tighten your fists together at your wife, keeping yourself from dipping into the urge of wrapping them around his neck and strangling him from the frustration he was giving you. For a man that was smart enough to track this thing with so much precision, it seemed he didn’t give much thought into this little hostage situation.

“You weren’t exactly a smooth criminal about this, Ron.” Dean said, turning around to face the man. “I mean, you didn’t even secure the security guard. He probably called them.”

“Well, I didn’t think to—"

“Hang on. Let’s just take a breath for a second.” You said, stopping from either one of them from speaking. You made yourself take a deep, long breath in before you began to evaluate the situation. “Okay. They probably got us surrounded. They cut the powers to the cameras, so there’s no way of telling who the shapeshifter is.”

“It’s not looking good, Ron.” Dean said, coming to the conclusion from the panicked expression that began to stretch across your face. He started to walk again, with Ronald trailing behind. But the both of them stopped again when something dropped across the room. The three of you became still for a moment. “Did you hear that?”

You thought about what it could have been, but you immediately shook your head. “No. No, I’m not getting involved with this mess.” You hissed, throwing your hands up in the air., knowing you weren’t going to get yourself dragged down deeper. “You two have fun rounding up the stragglers. I’m going to find something else silver for Sam. I’ll meet you back at the vault in ten minutes.” You ignored the shouts of protests as you turned around and headed for another office you caught sight of. Reaching behind your back pocket, your fingers brushed against the knife, making sure you were safe.

\+ + +

After tearing apart someone’s office, you managed to find an exact replica of the knife Dean had found, and another one you were presuming was silver. You headed back to the vault, keeping your hand wrapped around the blade for protection, but nothing seemed to have popped out on your way back. You went past the windows with caution and slipped to the back where you saw Ronald keeping guard for the meantime. You headed up to the brothers, giving Sam a weak smile, knowing from the pissed off look on his face, he wasn’t exactly pleased at what was happening.

“It shed its skin again.” Dean explained what happened to his brother while he was gone. “We don’t know when. Could be in the halls, the vault.”

“Great.” Sam sarcastically said, letting out a quiet scoff.

“You know, Dean, you are wanted by the police.” You said, bringing up the one small fact that had been burning in the back of your mind. He just muttered a yeah, acknowledging your worry as he rubbed his chin. “So even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?”

“One problem at a time, Y/N.” Dean said, you kept yourself from smacking him across the face. “I’m gonna do a sweep of the whole place, see if I can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together, we got to play ‘Find the Freak.’”

“Before you leave, here.” You drew out the two other silver knives you found, handing it over to the brothers for safety. Just in case if that shifter was still out there, normal bullets weren’t going to stop it. “I found a few more.”

“Now, stay here.” Dean instructed at you and his brother. You looked at him with annoyance, not exactly in the mood to babysit a grown man. “Make sure Ronald doesn’t hurt anybody. Help him manage the–”

“Help him manage?” Sam questioned his brother. His tone of voice was loud enough for it to spread through the entire bank, breaking Ronald from his concentration and looked at you three to see what was going on. “Are you insane?” 

Dean gave the other man across the room a wink and thumbs up, pretending to act as if everything was alright. “Look, I know this isn’t going the way we wanted.”

“Understatement.” Sam remarked with anger.

“But if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away. Probably never find it again, okay—” During his speech, you rolled your eyes and gestured an arm over to the sight that was happening right behind him. The man was pointing the gun straight at the window, oblivious to the police spotlight that he was standing under. “Ron! Out of the light!” Ronald gave a weak smile at his mistake, shifting backwards to safety.

“Seriously?” You asked.

“Ron’s plan was a bad plan. I’t was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now, crazy’s the only game in town, okay?” Dean said, you and his brother remained quiet. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave the man a cold stare. “And Y/N, make sure these two don’t start clawing each other’s throats out.” You weren’t going to make any promises, but you nodded your head, knowing you were going to at least play referee for the hotheads. A second later, Dean disappeared.

“Remember. Play nice with the other kids, Sammy.” You whispered, breaking out into a small smile when he turned his gaze and gave you a quick glare from the comment.

Sam took a small pause from doing anything before he was turning his attention to the man across the room. Swallowing his pride, he decided to speak first. “Hi, Ronald.” He said in the most awkward tone of voice. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a quiet laugh when the other one just nodded his head, as if he didn’t even acknowledged the hello.

\+ + +

You leaned yourself against the marble wall, feeling the coldness of the stone seep into the fabric and touch your flustered skin as you used a hand to fan yourself from the spike of your body temperature. The shock what you had done was beginning to settle in your mind. The distant sound of police sirens coming from outside and how their headlights illuminated through the windows wasn’t making you feel like a true hero. You were beginning to panic about the possible outcome that Dean had spoken about before disappearing to find this shifter. What if the police just busted in here and arrested all of you? There was a knife hanging out in your back pocket and you had been getting pretty cozy with Ronald. You dropped your head to the wall and let out a frustrated sigh. You were beginning to understand why Dean hated it when the law got involved.  
Sam headed over to the vault and began to slowly open the heavy door, making sure that everyone inside were allowed to have at least some fresh air. Ronald followed behind as a precaution. “I’m gonna keep this open, get you folks some fresh air in there, all right? But no one leaves this vault.” Sam instructed. You had to be thankful at least the younger brother was caring enough to make sure that everyone was all right. Even though neither one of you wanted to be in this situation, at least one of you were keeping a straight face.

You turned your attention away from the wall you had been staring at when you heard the phone that was ringing suddenly stop after two rings. Something else seemed to have been more of importance when you heard someone’s voice coming off as if they were in pain. You headed over to see the security guard before was standing up, but you could see him clutching his upper left arm. “I think I got to get out of here.” He said, trying to speak between his deep breaths.

“Sir, I’m very sorry, but you’re just gonna have to stay put.” Sam said, giving the older man an apologetic look from what he was being forced to do. All though, the both of you turned around when you heard Ronald speaking on the phone. Your face scrunched up in anger at what he was doing.

“What do you mean, demands?” He asked with confusion.

“Ronald,” You hissed at the man. “Hang up.”

He didn’t seem to have heard you as the man continued on to ramble, making the situation going from bad to a bit more worse. “I-I’m not a bank robber.” He tried to explain. Your head turned again back to the security guard as he pleaded again to get out. Sam had to yet again deny the poor man, not knowing if he was the shifter you were looking for. It could have been a trap to get freedom. “Kind of like a crime fighter, I guess.”

“Ronald! Shut up!” You ordered.

“No, I’m acting alone.” The other man said to the cops, but it was the last sentence he could speak before you roughly slammed your finger on the switch hook before he could have made this situation any worse.

“The less the cops know, the better.” You tried to explain to him. You grabbed the phone from him and slammed it back down on the hook for safe keeping.

"I think this dude’s having a heart attack!”

“Great.” You growled to yourself. You ran your fingers through your hair, giving Sam a panicked expression from what was going on. “That could be our guy, it could be a trick.“

“Are you just gonna let the man die?” Someone questioned you three with anger.

“No one’s dying in here!” Sam shouted, decided to take control of the situation before it it could get any worse. He grabbed the phone and began punching in a few numbers. Glancing over at Ronald, he nodded his head to the vault. “Guard the door.” The other man nodded his head, wandering over to the other hostages and kept his position.

A few moments later, you heard a male voice coming from the other line, it must have been a cop from the questions he was asking. “Can you tell me how many hostages this guy’s taken?”

“One of the people could be having heart trouble.” Sam said, avoiding the question. “You need to send a paramedic.”

“Just stay calm, sir.” The officer instructed, but that only made the man snap and raise his tone to make the point further that help needed to be sent. Now, he was starting to act like he was part of this mess from how he was behaving.

“Just send in a paramedic, okay?! Don’t try anything else!” Sam was losing his patience. You tried your hardest to give the man a signal to stop before he got himself dragged further. He took a small breath before calming his tone down. “Please.”

“Paramedic? This guy doesn’t have time for that, man.” The same man that you heard before was arguing with all of you. Walking over, you saw that he was holding the security guard in his arms, trying his hardest to keep the older one from falling to the ground in pain.

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay?” Ronald tried to apologize. “But nobody’s getting out.”

“He’s dying right in front of you.” The man said. As if it was clear to see either a man dying right in front of your eyes, or this shifter was one great actor. The guilt still didn’t stop itself from creeping inside your mind when the man continued on making you feel horrible from what you were letting happen. “Come on, man. You got to unlock the front door. We got to get out of here.”

“Both of you stay where you are!” Ronald warned them, swinging his gun around. You quickly wrapped your hands around the barrel of the gun, mumbling something to be calm after everyone jumped back in fright. Turning your head, you were at least happy to see Dean coming back and shine some light of what was really going on. He spoke to his brother for a moment, before the both of them focused their attention ons someone in the vault. It didn’t take long to either one of you figure out where the shifter was hiding out. He was right in front of you.

“You know what, Ronald? He’s right.” Sam said, heading inside the vault to grab the guard. “We got to get this man outside. Come on. I got you.” He shifted the older man so he was resting on his body, making the process of walking a bit easier.

“I’ll help you.” The other man offered, but Sam brushed it off with a polite smile.

“Oh, I got him. It’s cool.” Sam said, brushing off the attempts. You narrowed your eyes at the man as you focused your attention on him. He was particularly eager at helping. If he really was concerned about the man and his own well being, he would have just brushed it off and gotten out of the way. “Thanks. Watch your step.”

When Sam and the guard disappeared from sight, Dean decided to take his chance and get the shifter alone, and away from sight from what the three of of you had planned. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Dean asked the man, the response was a scoff as the man came forward.

“You have the gunman.” He said, seeming nonchalant about this entire situation. “Whatever.”

The next thing that happened wasn’t going according to the plan; the man reached out a hand and tightened his grip on Dean’s wrist where the gun was. He used his other arm to smash Dean’s head against the wall of full of small metal deposit boxes. You winced as you watched the older Winchester fall to the floor, trying to recover from the blow. When you saw that he was at least conscious, you knew there wasn’t a chance you were going to get this far and let the shifter slip through your fingers without at least a fight.

You raced behind the shifter as fast as you could, managing to chase him around through the bank again before you were just about to lose him. Ronald was ahead of you, managing to at least get a bit farther than you before he stopped in the middle of the light when he got ready to shoot the thing. “Stop!” You commanded. “Come back here!” But you quickly stopped in your tracks when you caught sight of something that looked odd, something like a red dot on Ronald’s back. The screams that you heard coming from Sam made it known that it wasn’t a good sign. Everything after that seemed to have gone in slow motion.

Stumbling backwards to safety, you accidentally knocked yourself into Dean after he chased after everyone else. You scrambled back even further when you watched in horror as Ronald’s body dropped to the ground after taking a bullet to the chest. You found yourself beginning to edge closer to the scene after Dean manage to find the courage, just to see how the damage was. You turned your head when you saw that Sam had come back, leaving the guard alone for to make up another plan.

“Here.” Sam handed over the key to the lock to his brother. “Take care of the guard. I’m going after the shifter.”

“You take the down floor. I’ll take the sweep of the upper building.” You said. The building was big and the possibilities of this creature hiding anywhere were endless. Giving Dean a quick glance, you jumped up from your spot and went your separate ways.

\+ + +

"Son of a bitch.” Your hands are wrapped around the cold edged of the vault door, but nobody seems to have been inside. They must have heard the gunshot or feeling pretty brave to wander around this place for safety. Your hands wrap around your knife and let out a breath of frustration from the back luck that never seems to end. Things had gotten harder and the shifter could be anywhere, or anybody. Everyone was a suspect now.

You wandered away from the vault and began to make your journey across the quiet building, keeping up extra precaution. You managed to get yourself up the stairs and to the second floor of the bank. Reaching a hand inside your back pocket, you pulled out your small flashlight to make seeing everything a bit easier. You tighten your grip around the knife and began to walk again, making sure that each room you checked was swept over with precision. There was no crack or piece of furniture you left unturned. If you were going to be apart of this mess, there was no way you were going to leave with this shifter dead. Ronald had an unfortunate passing. You had to at least try and finish what he worked so hard on. It seemed to be the only right thing to do.

Time seemed to have slipped by you when you stepped out into the hall again, empty handed from any trace of where this shifter could have been. You placed your hands on your hips and let out a quiet breath, trying to compose yourself after running around the place like a madman. As you reached up a hand to brush away a thin layer of sweat from your brow, something like creaking in the distance caught your attention. You stood still for a moment, hearing it coming closer, and right behind you.

You turned around at just the right moment to see that someone was trying to creep behind you, but you weren’t going to waste time to see who it was. You grabbed the person by the collar of their shirt and slammed them against the wall, using the surprise attack in your favor. Placing the blade of the knife against the person’s throat, your eyes adjusted to the darkness after you dropped your flashlight from the unexpected fight. But who was against the wall wasn’t someone you were expecting to see so soon.

“Dean?” You asked with surprise, stepping backwards and dropping your arm to your side. “What the hell are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, nodding his head. “Did you track down that shifter yet?”

“No. I tore this place apart and there’s no sign of the damn thing anywhere.” You admitted, finding yourself running your fingers through your hair in frustration again. You thought if you could track this creature down, this would have been the perfect spot for it to hide. It’s secluded and most people wouldn’t think out of the fear of the situation. “And from the lack of skin, I don’t think it shed itself to look like someone else. As far as I can tell, this thing is fast and smart.”

“Its around here somewhere. You need to look harder.” Dean said. But his tone of voice, you almost thought of it as a command from how forceful he was. You opened your mouth to say something, but you closed it. The both of you were under pressure, tension and the stakes were high enough as it was. Bickering wasn’t going to help the situation. “Take another sweep. Maybe if you try extra hard this time, you’ll find something of use.”

You made yourself bite your tongue just enough to keep yourself from saying something you would regret. Giving the brother a glare, you headed to the first room on your right. If he wanted you to waste your time and finding nothing, fine.

You headed inside the office again and walked around again to see if there was anything. As you stepped over to the desk, you found yourself clutching the edge of the wood when you felt a substance nearly make you slip. Managing to catch yourself before the fall, you looked down to see something you weren’t expecting. It was the same mess of mucus like skin on the ground you had found before downstairs. The shifter had changed quick this time, and someone very familiar. On instinct, you reached behind your back pocket to get your knife. But you were touching nothing but denim.

“I told you, Y/N.” You quickly looked over your shoulder to see that the shifter had changed into Dean, after all. He casually walked back into the room with your eyes trailing down to the one thing that could have given you a chance at making it out of here alive, he kicked it across the hall, making it disappear. A grin began to spread across his lips when he caught sight your lingering stare. “Were you looking for that, sweetheart? Sorry ‘bout that.”

“If I ask politely, will you give it back?” You mocked the shifter, taking a giant step backwards so you were free from falling flat on your back. The chuckle that he gave you made a frown stretch, he was acting like all of this was a joke. “You know, it doesn’t really matter. You’re not making it out of here alive.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Y/N.” He said, ignoring your pathetic attempt at a threat. Each time that you took a step backwards, his legs were long enough to make him have a lead. You pressed your back against the wall when you realized you were cornered. The shifter placed one hand against the wall to lean his body so there was no chance for you to run. “But what I do know, is you’re getting pretty sloppy at figuring out what is real and what’s not. I mean, you couldn't even spot the little difference. And you call yourself a hunter.”

“So, what? Are you going to kill me?” You question the shifter, raising an eyebrow. Two could play the game of taunting, maybe it would give you enough time to figure out a plan. “The last shapeshifter that I faced was pretty fond of pretending to be Dean, too. But if I recall, that son of a bitch got a silver bullet to the heart. Dropped like a dead fly.”

“Wasn’t it good old Dean that pulled the trigger? Yeah. That sounds right. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you on the floor being choked to death? You had found yourself in yet another comprising position, like always. Kind of like now. But nobody’s here to save you.” The shifter was having fun with the memories Dean was giving him. You clenched your jaw as the man’s lips twitched into another grin, knowing that he was hitting a nerve inside you. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I wouldn’t you to dead just yet when the fun is getting started. I like to play with my opponents, see what I’m up against. I think we could have some fun.”

“And that would be?” You asked the man, narrowing your eyes to a squint.

“Hide and seek.”

Before you could open your mouth at what he was getting at, the only thing that managed to escape as a gasp from what happened next. He roughly shoved your against the wall, making you black out for just a second. You managed to recover after a moment as you cradled your pounding head as you reached for your phone, punching in Sam’s number.

“Goddamn it.” You hissed underneath your breath, feeling the pain growing worse. You heard ringing on the other end a few times before you heard the familiar voice pick up. “Sam? Yeah, we got a big problem.”

\+ + +

Your hands were wrapped around the wooden banister as you watched the younger Winchester reach down and pick up the same flesh you had seen just a few minutes ago. But now there was all the same clothing, ditched. The shifter was right about changing. This one was quick, and it wasn’t playing around. After filling in Sam on what you had dealt with before meeting back up, it would be safe to say that neither one of you were going to be separating sides. Sam was on the phone again, calling his brother to get the other one caught up from the events that were happening way too quickly.

“It slipped his skin twice.” Sam said, you could hear the frustration in the other man’s voice from the other line from the news. “Yeah, basard shifts fast, a lot faster than the one in St. Louis.”

“God, it’s like playing a shell game.” Dean said with aggravation. “It could be anybody again.” 

“Y/N said most of the employees were out of the vault when she checked.” Sam said, trying to get the last bit of the residue off the blade.

“All right. You guys search every inch of this place. I’m gonna go round everybody up.” Sam hung up the phone after that instruction and glanced up at you, knowing the both of you had to play Find the Freak all on your own.

\+ + +

You followed in suit with Sam, taking a cautious and slow pace as you traveled down the halls again for any sort of different sign that either one of you had seen before. Your fingers gripped around the edges of the flashlight tighter as you wandered deeper into this place. There was a strong hatred that was beginning to grow for shapeshifters. Even though you had only encountered one before, there was nothing but death that followed behind and complete paranoia. It proved itself many times before that it could be capable of being anyone. If Sam wasn’t holding that silver knife, you could have fooled yourself that he was the thing you were hunting.

Stopping in the middle of the hall for a moment, you looked around to see if there was any evidence at where this shifter could be hiding. You flashed the light around and examined each crack that you could see. But you immediately froze at a certain stop. Just inches from a closed door, you caught the sight of blood, a few droplets that could have been the thing you were looking for. Nodding head at Sam, you motioned toward the closet. He took the lead and quietly headed over with you hovering behind him, just in case the shifter was hiding. With the knife up in the air for a quick attack, you heard him take a breath before reaching out a hand and letting the door swing wide open. What came out wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Damn it.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. You had found young redhead from the vault, the one that seemed to have taken an interest in the older brother. But she didn't’ seem very talkative now. Because now, she was lying on the floor with her throat slit clean, in nothing more than a silk slip dress. It seemed the shifter had found its next victim of choice.

\+ + +

You stood in the hall where you had found the body with your arms crossed your chest. Your fingers were wrapped around another knife someone had hidden away in one of the many other rooms around this place. It was something to do while you waited for the brothers to come back with girl, also protection wasn’t such a bad thing. This monster wasn’t getting out of this room after it stepped inside. But you had a feeling it wasn’t going down without a fight. Everything about this situation was making your skin crawl. The faster you got this case done, the quicker you could forget what happened in these past mesh of hours that never seemed to be ending. It was just one horrible thing after another.

“I thought you were letting me go.” You tore your gaze away from the wall when you heard a familiar voice coming closer and heels clicking against the floor. Sheri was being forced into the room with Sam following lead and Dean lingering behind with a grip on the woman’s arm. When he shoved her inside the room to see what she had done. You flinched from the sudden roar of a scream that erupted from her throat when she saw her doppelganger lying on the floor. “Oh, God!” She kept screaming like a banshee, flailing around to run, but Sam yanked her backwards.

“Was that community theater, or are you just naturally that good?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask, smirking at the acting this shifter was going through all this trouble for. She was almost convincing, but it wasn’t fooling either one of you from what she was.

“This is the last time you become anybody, ever.” Sam threatened her, holding up the silver knife as he got ready to take a stab at her. But before he could do anything else, she slipped right out of his arms, landing on the floor with a thud. You furrowed your eyebrows at what just happened.

You were nothing more than confused at what just happened. Looking between the two similar looking women, you found yourself focusing more on the dead body for the longest time. When you glanced over at Dean, who was now crouched down on the ground, getting ready to take down the passed out woman. Something didn’t seem right about this. “Dean, wait, wait, wait.” You said, making him freeze from your warning. “What’s the advantage of this plan? I mean, fainting now wouldn’t help it survive.” You curiously wandered over to the woman with the slit throat. Faking your own death seemed like a pretty genius idea. To be safe, you reached out a hand to press two fingers to her neck in order to feel a pulse.

Mid motion, your wrist lingered over her body as your head quickly whipped over your shoulder when the sound of glass breaking echoed from the hall. You cursed underneath your breath at the change of plans. This was probably the cops way of saying hello. You turned your head back to the body, but you only managed to catch a glimpse of what happened next.

It seemed that you were right about your suspicions; the shifter reached out a hand, wrapping it around your wrist, using your surprise from the attack to her advantage. You tried to swing the knife you were previously holding in the other to swing down at her chest. But she was quicker than you could had given her credit for. As if you were a puppet, she easily threw you off, making your head hit something metal and hard.

You were out of it for a few moments before you began to realize what was going on. You heard the sound of familiar screaming ring in your ears and something being shouted about getting Sheri out of the room when it was clear enough that she want the one you were looking for. Managing to lift yourself up from the ground to see what was going on, you were quick enough to catch the shifter bolting out of the room with Dean lying on the ground. Even his own attempts at fighting this thing off weren’t good enough. But that wasn’t going to stop you from hunting this thing yourself, Dean was sure to follow behind.

You had let this thing away so many times. It was time to put this monster where it belonged just the other shifter you had fought before. Six feet under the ground.

\+ + +

For this place crawling with cops, luck seemed to have been following you quite well. You wandered around the building until you were at the basement level, a perfect place to hide out and find an entrance to skip this joint. You walked as quietly as you could, making sure your shoes didn’t make too much noise and keeping your breathing to a minimum. There was no spot you left untouched as you took a quick sweep of the floor. But you reminded yourself that time wasn’t your friend, it was another enemy that you were facing. The cops, this shifter, the possibility that you could be hauled off in handcuffs all screamed in your mind as consequences if you weren’t fast enough.

The sound of footsteps coming from across the room made you realize that you weren’t alone. Quick as you could, you managed to sneak in between a crack that was just enough for your body. You placed a hand against your mouth and squeezed your noise to keep yourself from letting your breathing echo. The strobes of flashlights passed you as the members of the swat team examined every crack of this place. When you heard the word clear, you eased yourself down a bit from the fear of getting caught. You waited until you heard the sound of the heavy door slamming shut as your cue to continue on with the hunt of your own.

You clutched the knife with a knuckle-white grip as you headed toward the closed door you were about to investigate. Something about it was screaming for you to see what was inside. You swallowed and counted down from three before you wrapped your free hand around the doorknob and swung it open. You leaned inside to see if there was anybody in there. But there wasn’t. You clenched your jaw in frustration, slamming the door shut behind you.

You took a few steps away from the empty room and began to rethink of where you could find this thing. Although, your thoughts were quickly cut off when you felt something like a fist collide right with your jaw, making you stumble to the floor from the unexpected attack. You recovered from the blow after a few seconds, taking a few deep breaths to soothe yourself from the pain. When you looked up and saw who it was, you knew this was just the beginning.

The shifter was looming over you, a smirk spreading across her lips, knowing she caught you off guard. You gritted your teeth and got back up. The both of you waited to see who was going to make the first move. You tried your hardest to take a swing at her first, going for a vulnerable spot that could at least slow her down. Both the shifter seemed to have an idea of what you were doing, blocking the swing by leaning backwards.

You swung up your arm again to make a slashing motion when you caught the sight of her trying to catch her breath. But it was just a trick and you knew you fell for it from what she did next. A hand wrapped around your wrist with the knife, she squeezed as hard as she could to make you drop it. You tried your to move your free hand to push harder. She copied your motions and clasped down, pinning you in place as she tried to force your hands up higher in the air. You thought quick and decided to use the only thing that seemed appropriate enough.

Your head roughly bashed against hers, trying your hardest to work through the ringing in your ears as you took one more headbash before she was stumbling backwards. You twirled around the knife and got ready to go at with her again. When she seemed slightly dazed, you quickly swung up your arm again and aimed directly at the left of her chest. Or the exact spot where her heart would be. The shifter managed to recover just enough to grab ahold of your arm again with both her hands, but it wasn’t enough pressure like before. You grunted through the struggle and grabbed her upper arm to push her away. All though, you found yourself pulling apart a layer of her skin. Your eyes widened in horror as it came off in one perfect piece, your fingers tried your hardest to flick off the foreign residue.

The shifter took your moment of weakness and used it as her advantage. You let out a cry of pain when you felt her foot kick you directly in the stomach, making you stumble to the floor again. A second swing was about to be aimed for your face, but you quickly blocked the kick. Your hands wrapped around her upper half and forced yourself up to your feet. You managed to trip her just enough have her body slam against the wall, pinning her in place for a moment. But she twirled around, giving you little time to react before she could swing at you again. You quickly slammed her back down and pinned her body against the the wall after pressing your elbow to her throat. She retaliated by snaking a hand squeezing them around your neck, making breathing a bit more harder to do.

You tried to stabilize yourself when you took your chance at ending this fight once and for all. You inched closer to the spot you were eying. But this shifter was trying her hardest. You gritted your teeth and worked yourself through the pressure. Your mind screamed for you to push harder, you didn’t get this far to let her win. You took your final chance and lunged forward will all the energy you had left.

You could feel the pressure of the blade break her skin, her short breaths and grunts of pain were just enough for you to keep pushing that knife until it hit the heart. Her hand that was around your neck began to slowly fall to her side when she began to slip away from life. You took a step back and watched as her lifeless body dropped toward the ground, resting on her knees. Silence finally through your ears as the aching joints began to make you feel like someone had thrown you against the wall a few times.

Your attention was fixated on her gaze; your lifeless eyes were propped open as her mouth hung open slightly. The slashed throat had her neck covered in blood, her right arm looked like someone skinned it. You crouched down and reached a hand to pull out the knife, knowing that it was better to be safe about stealing evidence that could have linked you to this crime. You had little time to waste. There was still finding the boys and make an escape before the cops were tearing this place apart. But you could feel the idea shatter, because in just a blink of an eye, everything changed.

You glanced up to the wall you were facing to see your shadow begin to grow larger. Footsteps you didn’t notice at first were now clear as day, and soon, two towering bodies were looming over you. Nervously swallowing, you slowly pulled your hand away from the weapon and raised both of your arms into a surrendering motion. Your palms began to sweat and heart raced inside your chest when you managed to get the courage to see who it was.

Just like you had feared; two members of the swat team had found you. Bloody and bruised, there was not a good enough lie in the world to get yourself out of this one.

\+ + +

Adjusting the navy blue jacket once more, she moved quietly through the halls and walked like she had a purpose. A scolding glare was sketched across her facial expressions as she passed anyone that was dressed in black, not fearing their attempts at swinging their guns around. She hardened her gaze when making eye contact with a police officer that seemed to be middle aged from his graying hair. He reached up a hand to stop her from moving any farther into the crime scene. His eyes narrowed at her, as he began to examine the clothing she wore; a large flannel shirt that he was guessing was a man’s, crumbled up jeans and shoes that seemed to have been through some hard times. But he stopped interrogating her when she flashed her badge at his face.

“Agent Henderson, FBI. White Collar division.” She introduced herself, giving the man little time to read the information on her badge before she was shoving it back into her jacket. “You know, it’s nice to get a call at three in the morning to hear that there’s been an attack. Three dead and two highly dangerous criminals involved. Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?”

“Excuse me? I thought Henderson—" The officer’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“What? You thought that you boys get to have all the fun? This is my case. It’s been mine for the past six months.” She explained, glancing around the the halls to see where she could find the other agent. When he was nowhere around, she let out a sharp sigh and focused her attention back on the officer. “I want a full report given time in the ten minutes. Everything that you know, I need to know.”

“Yes, ma’am. The responding detective is outside, he can fill you in on the details.” The officer said, straightening himself out more from her tone of voice. All though she might have been young looking and dressed unprofessional. Her sharp tongue was enough of a warning for him to keep on her good side. “I have my men doing a full sweep of the building again as we speak. As soon as we find something, you’ll be the first one to know.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. "Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation.” She gave the officer a nod before she was off again. Just in time before they discovered the special present that was waiting for them in the closet. A smirk spread across her lips.

“Boss! You might wanna come see this!”

\+ + +

You crumbled up the jacket in a tight ball as you walked into the parking garage. You tossed the FBI badge into the sewer drain, hearing it plop into the water, disappearing forever. The coat that was stolen off someone was next to go, throwing it directly into the trash. All the evidence that allowed you to slip out from the bank was gone. You found the Impala parked in the exact same spot. You slipped yourself inside the back and slammed the door shut. Your eyes trailed over to the brothers who were in the front seat, still dressed in the swat uniforms they stole. The officers that Sam had beaten were found, giving gbd three of you precious minutes before the chase would be on again.

The both of you were silent for the longest time, everything that you’ve just was beginning to creep into your mind. You had just left a crime scene with a dead body that someone was going to think was murder. There were numerous eye witnesses that could claim either one of you to be part of the hostage situation. And the three of you had assaulted, bounded someone against and impersonated an officer. You a federal agent, that had to be a harsher punishment. The future wasn’t looking so bright.

“We’re so screwed.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You felt the quietest scoff escape your throat when he said that A few moments later after that was said, you could feel the car begin up and drive away.

This wasn’t what you were expecting, or what you wanted to deal with. You always believed that you were smart enough to get yourself away from trouble, pull yourself away from the fire when it got to be too much. But you allowed yourself to get sucked into this hunt, more than you normally do. All you wanted to do was make sure that shifter was dead, you didn’t think about the consequences or the fact that for each one that you killed, a handful more were still out there. And you had a feeling after tonight, you were officially playing a part in Winchester manhunt.


	13. House of the Holy.

Reading had always been one of your many hobbies that you’d never really got to do anyone since being on the road, too much research and tagging along on the hunts made your private time scarce. Not that you minded, but there was something wonderful about getting sucked into a developing plot with characters you’d grown to love just after a few chapters. You had been skimming pages of a novel you had buried underneath the clothes here and there for the past few weeks. But when Sam caught sight of an interesting case just a few days ago, he decided that it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. 

Of course, neither one of you were going to let his older brother out of your sight. While Sam was away interviewing a woman at some mental hospital, you were stuck babysitting a grown twenty-eight year old man that was getting on your last nerve. Sure, he was quiet for the last half n’ hour after throwing a handful of quarters at him when he discovered the motel beds could vibrate. The first time it was cute, but after the tenth time, you were about to lose your patience. Throwing the hardcover book straight at the man sitting across the room to wake him up from his moment of peace didn’t seem like such a bad idea. You began to wonder if he forgot you were in the room.

The little bastard was lying on his own bed with his headphones in, some muffled rock song echoed through the motel room. His eyes were closed, enjoying the last few minutes of the vibrations before it would be done for good. You repositioned yourself into a more comfortable position on the couch before drawing your attention back to the part you had left on. After a few seconds of getting yourself hooked onto the plot once more, your eyes trailed up to the motel door when you heard it open and close. Sam came walking into the room, mumbling a greeting to you before saying one to his brother. Of course, he went ignored from the other man. Sam looked at you for an explanation of what was going on. You tried calling out the older man’s name, but he ignored you, also. you just rolled your eyes at his behavior.

“He’s been like that since you left. Hang on, I know what to do.” You said, reaching for your bookmark before shutting the novel and tucking into one hand. Pushing yourself up from the seat, you walked over toward the man that still didn’t seem to notice you or Sam. You smacked Dean’s boots just enough enough for him to jump from the sudden disturbance. “Hey!”

“Hey, Y/N, you got to try this.” Dean said with a grin. You gave the man an annoyed look as your nose began to crinkle from what he said next. “I mean, there really is magic in the magic fingers.” 

“Dean, I think you’re enjoying this way too much.” You mumbled. “It’s kind of making me uncomfortable.

“You guys got me on lockdown here. I’m bored out of my skull.” Dean tried to justify his actions, which only you replied with a scoff. The man wasn’t exactly safe out there roaming the streets. Someone could easily have recognized his face from at least a half dozens news reports and articles you had found just after ditching town for another one miles away.

“Hey, you were the bank robber on the eleven o’clock news, not us.” Sam pointed out. “We can’t risk you just walking into a government facility. Dean hummed a response, closing his eyes and blocked out the two of you. You shrugged your shoulders knowing there was not much more you could say to the man, Sam just rolled his eyes and headed to the bathroom to wash his hands.

You began to observe the paper cover for your book to see it was scuffed from what you did earlier. But your eyes trailed up when you heard familiar sounds of short buzzing before the vibration noises and beeping coming from the bed began to slowly off into nothing. Your lips twitched into a small smile, happy to have that fiasco finally over. “Aw, damn it. That was my last quarter.” Dean muttered to himself, you knew that was a lie. That was your last quarter. He sat up in bed and ripped out his earbuds, deciding to see his brother had any loose change to continue the fun. “Hey! Do you got any quarters?”

“No.” Sam answered, giving his brother a glare from the mirror when he saw the both of you appear from nowhere. You leaned yourself against the outside wall, peeking inside the bathroom while Dean stood in the doorway, resting his body against his arm.

“So,“ Dean spoke again with another question to a conversation about the woman Sam was visiting in your and his absence. "Did you get in to see that crazy hooker?”

“Yeah. Gloria Sitnik.” Sam said. He turned off the water and reached for a towel to wipe off his hands. “And I’m not so sure she’s crazy.”

“But she seriously believes that she was…touched by an angel?” Dean tried to have been funny, knowing the subject matter of this case was slowly slitting both brothers to wonder what was fact or fiction. You, on the other hand, had kept yourself out of the debate. Sam nodded his head, still siding with the woman who had murdered someone in cold blood. You were intrigued to know more details after you read an article and the police investigation against the woman.

“Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean,” Sam reworded his explanation a bit better to make you and his brother understand what he had saw back at the institution. “She’s living in a locked ward, and she’s totally at peace.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right—-sounds completely sane.” Dean sarcastically remarked.

“What about the man she stabbed?” You asked, wanting to get this topic rolling back up again before you could see a debate unfold. You weren’t really in the mood to deal with a pouting brother complaining that you always side with the other about these kind of things. "Did you happen to get anything else on him?”

“Un, Carl Gulley. Said she killed him ‘cause he was evil.” Sam said. You furrowed your eyebrows at that kind of answer. It only left you with more questions to wonder what kind of skeletons this guy was hiding and how the woman, or something else, was able to figure it out.

“Was he?” Dean questioned his brother.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t find any dirt on him.” Sam admitted, heading out of bathroom and back into the motel room. “He didn’t have a criminal record. He worked at the campus library, had lots of friends, was a churchgoer.”

“Hmm. So Gloria’s just your standard-issue wacho?” Dean asked, following behind. “I mean, she wouldn’t be the first nutjob in history to kill in the name of history, know what I mean?”

“No,” You agreed with the man for a moment, but you pointed out another fact that made you jumped to the other brother’s thoughts on everything. “but she’s the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don’t you think?”

“Odd—yeah. Supernatural—maybe. But angels? I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Sam couldn’t help but ask his brother for more reasons, yet again.

“‘Cause there’s no such thing, Sam.” Dean simply said.

The younger brother let out a laugh, a smile began to stretch across his lips from the denial he was seeing from his brother. Out of anyone, he thought that the man would have been the first one to believe their existence. “Dean, there’s ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we’ve ever hunted.” Sam said, walking over to the beds to take a seat on one.

“There’s a ton of lore on unicorns, too. I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams and they shoot rainbows out of their ass.” Dean was continuing to be sarcastic, so you did it right back to him.

“Wait,” Your face dropped into a saddened expression. You pressed a hand against your mouth for more of an effect to make your point of how he was behaving at his brother. “There’s no such thing as unicorns?”

“That’s cute, Y/N.” Dean mumbled, obviously not as amused from the little act as you and Sam had pulled on him. “I’m just saying, guys, there’s some legends that you can file under ‘bull crap.’”

“And you got angels on the ‘bull crap’ list?” Sam asked his brother.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never seen one.” Dean admitted, his answer short and to the point.

Still, that wasn’t enough for his brother to continue digging for more. “So what?”

“So I believe what I can see.” Dean said.

You couldn’t help yourself but jump into the argument, knowing that his point was a little bit weak Coming from someone who had no idea of what wicked roamed the earth, you were a bit hesitant to believe that half the creatures you’d hunted were real. There were things that you haven’t seen yet for yourself, but you believed there was a chance they could be a real thing. Or perhaps, they were really just a work of fiction. You didn’t know. “You guys have seen things that most people couldn’t even dream about. Hell, I was kept in the dark for most of my life. But here we are.”

“Exactly. With our own eyes—that’s hard proof, okay?“ Dean said, twisting around your point to further his argument. “But in all this time, I have never seen anything that looks like an angel. Don’t you think we would have crossed paths with them or at least know someone who’s crossed paths with them? No. This is a demon or a spirit. They find people a few fries short of a happy meal, and they trick them into killing these randoms.”

Sam was quiet for a few moments, as if he was processing what his brother had said. But from his one word response, you knew one of it had changed his mind on the matter of everything. “Maybe.”

The other brother opened his mouth to continue on the argument, but he knew there was no changing the man’s mind. When Sam believed in something, he wasn’t quite easy to persuade to join the other side. Dean ended up rolling his eyes, showing the signal of defeat. “Can we just—I’m going stir-crazy, man.” He said, getting up from the bed he had sat down on earlier just to get up and walk around the room. “Let’s go by Gloria’s apartment, huh?”

“I was just there. Nothing.” Sam explained the lack of details. “No sulfur, no E.M.F.”

“You didn’t see any fluffy, white wing feathers?” Dean asked, you rolled your eyes.

Sam ignored his brother’s sarcasm, “Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign right beside Carl Gulley’s doorway.” You raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. Now, there was something to explore to see what’s going on.

“Could be something at his house” You said, now itching to do some digging around the man’s property. “It’s worth checking out.”

\+ + +

You and the brothers arrived at the man’s house a bit after discussing about leaving. You had noticed it was a rather quiet neighborhood with mostly nobody around, which was a good thing. No wandering eyes to worry about during the quick search of the property. Of course in this kind of place, you weren’t really worried about the cops being called. You stepped out of the car after Dean parked against the sidewalk. Pushing yourself deeper into your jacket and scarf to block out the cold, you followed behind the boys as the casually wandered to the house. Sam shoved his hands inside his pockets and observing the backyard and Dean took the first step on the porch to see something.

“Hey, guys. Think I found it.” Dean declared. You turned your head away from something in the distance to see what he was pointing over his shoulder. You gave the man a glare when you saw that it was some plastic lawn decoration from the holidays. It was a cartoon angel, something that you would see in the classic nativity scene. “It’s a sign from above.” Sam didn’t seem to have found his brother’s comment all that funny either from the look on his face. Dean took a quick peek inside the house before he walked down the porch steps. “I think I learned a valuable lesson. Always take down your Christmas decorations after New Year’s. Or you might get filleted by a hooker from God.”

“I’m laughing on the inside.” Sam muttered underneath his breath.

You observed the details of the house to see if there was something that could settle this argument once and for all. But the weeks of newspaper sitting on the doorway and the plastic angel wasn’t giving you much inspiration for a perfect answer. Although, your eyes trailed away from something you had been focusing on to see that Sam began heading to the backyard, opening the squeaky metal fence before stepping onto the property. You and Dean followed behind to see what the younger man was looking for. The three of you walked deeper into the backyard of the place before coming up to a storm cellar, with its doors shut away with a rusty lock. Well, if someone wanted to keep secrets from the world, the best way is under lock and key.

“You know, Gloria said the guy was guilty to his deepest foundations.” Sam said.

“You think she literally meant the foundation?” Dean asked his brother.

“Only one way to find out.”

Breaking the lock was the most easiest part of getting inside the basement, with a few kicks, both of them snapped from being exposed to the elements. The brothers opened up the wooden doors and headed inside first, you turned on your own flashlight and steadied your way down the creaky steps, using the stone walls for leverage as you wandered down into the darkness. From what you could make out between the stream of different lights being flashed around, it looked like a typical workstation area from the shelves cluttered with all sorts of products and tools.

You took a step farther into the basement, making sure to explore at least every inch of this place before coming up with another reason why this was happening. When you focused your attention on a wall, you started from the top and began to work your way down, not expecting to find much here. But you caught something, and it was even a little bit disturbing from what you mind made up for the reason why it was here. You crouched down and flashed your light on something that looked like claw marks, your fingers running down the deep scratches before your finger bumped into something that was lodged into the foundation. It felt like hard, smooth plastic, and oddly enough, familiar.

“You got something, Y/N?” You turned your gaze away from the wall to see that Dean had stopped searching. Nodding your head, the brothers wandered over to see what the big discovery was. You scraped away a bit more of the dirt that covered the object before you could yank it out all together. "What is that?”

What you had found was a flesh colored with a white tip, your face fell in surprise. Now you knew why this felt so familiar, almost every woman you know has had this done. But it looks like someone had messed up their french manicure, you could feel the dry glue rubbing against your skin. “It’s a fingernail.” You said, dusting off the remaining dirt to show them more in detail. You could hear Dean let out the softest sigh from what you found. Something did happen here.

Dean got back up from the ground and grabbed two shovels from the corner of the wall they were leaning on, handing one to his brother. You took a step backward and let the brothers start moving away the dirt to see what this man was hiding. But what the three of you had discovered wasn’t what you were expecting. Everyone has skeletons hiding in the closet, but it looks like this guy wanted to take his dirty secret just a bit deeper. Three feet under, to be exact. He thought nobody would ever know, being able to take this secret to his grave. Someone out there was making sure that outcome came true for this killer a bit faster than he had planned.

“So much for the innocent churchgoing librarian.” Sam said, tearing his gaze away from the decomposed skeleton for a moment.

“Whatever spoke to Gloria about this knew what it was talking about—I’ll give you that.” Dean mumbled, still not sounding convinced.

It seemed that it was going to take more than just a skeleton buried underneath someone’s home, unspoken to a soul, for the oldest Winchester to believe someone with a halo and fluffy wings was making these type of miracles happen. The Old Testament from the bible was right about a proper justice, something that someone would prove for further evidence in this sost of case had invoked someone from above. You remembered an old passage—Show no mercy; an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, hand for a hand, foot for a foot. In this case; life for a life.

But as Ghandi said: An eye for an eye only makes the whole world go blind.

\+ + +

“Did you bring quarters?” Was one of the first questions asked from the oldest Winchester’s mouth when you and his little brother arrived back to the motel room. You stopped in your tracks, not expecting to hear that sort of command after doing a quick food run and inspection on the library, the one that the dead man had worked at. You thought it would have been about what you or Sam had found, but you guessed his mind was preoccupied on other things. You stared at him for a second, your mouth beginning to linger open from what he was asking. But your eyes trailed toward what he was staring at with eager attention. The machine to the vibrating bed.  
“You’re such a pervert. And we’re not enabling your sick habit.“ You mumbled underneath your breath, rolling your eyes up in annoyance from his question. You threw the paper bag into his lap before shrugging off your jacket. “You’re like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies.”

“What are you talking about? I eat.” He said. And to prove his point, he opened up the paper and reached a hand inside for the warm food. You shook your head. “And I got news.”

“Us too.”

“All right, you go first.”

“Three students have disappeared off the campus this year.” Sam explained what the both of you could dig up on the last murder. And even from a few students that you had spoken to of the missing victims, Carl had been friendly to mostly everyone. he had tried to get even closer to the victims. But just on word, nothing was close to make the police think that he could have been a suspect. It was just a coincidence. “All of them last seen at the library.”

“Where Carl Gulley worked.” Dean had guessed, you nodded your head for the answer. And it seemed that he had the same response as you did about this entire matter. “Sick bastard.”

“So Gloria’s angel—”

“Angel?”

“Okay, whatever this thing is.” You stepped into the conversation, not wanting to hear the same argument breakout again. Neither one of you knew exactly what you were dealing with here, so this creature was just going to be called an it to keep yourself somewhat sane during this case.

“Okay, well, whatever this thing is,” Dean repeated after you, “it struck again.”

“What?” You and Sam asked with surprise.

“I was listening to the police radio. There was this guy, Zach Smith, some local drunk.” Dean said, explaining what he had overheard. “He went up to a stranger’s front door last night, stabbed him in the heart.”

“I’m guessing he went to the police and confessed?” You asked, even though you had a feeling you knew the answer before the older man could say.

“Yep. Roma Downey made him do it” Dean answered. You watched as he got up from the bed he was sitting on and walked over to the dresser, ripping off the yellow sticky note on the mirror. “Now, I, uh, Got the victim’s address.”

“Hmm. Let’s go see what his secrets are.”

\+ + +

Who knew breaking into a crime scene would have been easier than hacking into someone’s computer files. You heard distant footsteps in the background coming from the brothers, while they checked to see if there was anything they could dig up on the latest victim, you put your effort into taking a sweep of his computer. You had been through almost every single folder and his internet browser history to see what dirt you could find. But he only criminating evidence that you were seeing was work emails and the occasional stroll through free porn sites. You were about to presume this man was just like everyone else, but a certain file was keeping the you curious to know what was so important that he needed to guard it like this.

“Frank liked his catalog shopping. But that’s all I got.“ Dean said, heading back inside the office with a thick magazine, flipping through to look at the tacky and expensive furniture.

"What about you, Y/N?”

“Not much here. Except he’s got this one locked file on his computer that…hey, hold on.” You mumbled to what felt like yourself when an idea struck into your mind. It was an old trick you remembered from the time you accidentally forgotten your password for some old file you hidden away. You pressed your fingers against the hot keys and typed in something that would override the computer. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you seen the file become unlocked. But what you uncovered seemed more like an obsessive love. “The hell?”

“What?” Sam asked, stepping to loom over your shoulder to see what you had found. Dean dropped the catalog to the desk’s edge, walking over himself to see what the curiosity was all about. You clicked on one of the links to see at least a dozen saved messages going back and forth for a few months. From how they were talking, it was getting pretty serious.

“He’s got all of these e-mails saved from a woman named Jennifer,” You explained as your eyes scanned over a letter. But you could feel your blood run cold from the unexpected detail you stumbled upon. You clenched your jaw for a moment. “This lady who’s thirteen years old.”

"Oh, I don’t want to hear this.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

“Looks like they met in a chat room. These emails are pretty personal, guys.” You said, clicking around to skim a few more messages before you stumbled upon one that was the real winner. The exact reason why the three of you were here. “Look at that. Setting up a time and place to meet. And if that’s not a good enough selling point, boys, they were supposed to meet today.”

You and Sam slowly looked away from the computer screen and toward the man sitting on the left. He pushed himself off the desk, knowing he had to be quick at finding some other answer than the one his little brother was going to keep saying. "Huh. Well, I guess if you’re gonna stab someone, good timing."Sam kept staring at his brother, knowing the evidence was beginning to climb higher. Dean licked his lips and walked to the back of the computer. "I don’t know, man. This is weird. I mean, sure, some spirits are out for vengeance, but this one’s almost like a do-gooder, like a—”

“Avenging angel?” Sam asked with curiosity. Dean just rolled his eyes in pure annoyance from the mentioned creature. “Well, how else do you explain it, Dean? Three guys not connected to each other all stabbed through the heart? At least two were world-class pervs, and I bet if you dug deep enough on the other guy–”

“Hey.” Dean cut off his brother. With his back turned to the both of you, he had stumbled upon something that seemed to make a good enough of a connection.

“What?” His little brother asked, almost seemed frustrated from the change in topic.

“You said Carl Gulley was a churchgoer, right?” Dean asked, you mumbled a yeah. You could see a pamphlet in his hands, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when you watched him read over what it said on the paper. “What was the name of his church?”

“Uh,” You tapped your fingers against the wood before the name popped into your head. “Our Lady of the Angels?”

“Of course that would be the name.” Dean said. He flipped over the paper to show you and his brother that it was a newsletter, and from the decoration of clip art, it was for a church. “Looks like Frank went to the same church.”

\+ + +

“So, you’re interested in joining the parish?” You walked in sync with one of the priests down the aisles of the church. He was an older man that seemed friendly and warm enough to take some time out of his day to speak about the three of you joining the church. Of course, it seemed like a good enough cover to get a bit more information about this place.

“Yes. We just don’t feel right unless we hit church every Sunday.” You said, hearing your voice echo through the building. Nobody else seemed to have been around except for the four of you as your eyes trailed around the place. But your attention went back to the man when he asked you a question you weren’t prepared for from the previous thoughts that crossed your mind.

“Where’d you say you lived before?”

“Premont, Texas.” Dean answered, a smile growing on his lips.

“Really? That’s a nice town. St. Teresa’s Parish.” Father Reynolds said. “You must know the priest there.”

Now, there was something else neither one of you were expecting. Yet again, Dean tried his hardest to think of a story before getting busted. “Sure, yeah. No, it’s Father O'Malley.” He said, almost stuttering out a name he thought on the top of his head.

“I know a father Shaughnessy.” The priest said, you smiled at the older man.

"Shaughnessy, exactly.” You mumbled, giving the other brother a playful nudge. “This one isn’t very good at keeping names.”

“You know,” Sam stepped into the conversation, bringing it back round to a more positive vibe before the man could become worried. “we’re just happy to be here now, father.”

“And we’re happy to have you.” Father Reynolds said, giving the three of you a nod of appreciation. “We could use some young blood around here.”

“I got to ask—no offense, but the neighborhood…” Dean mentioned what was going on outside of the church walls. There wasn’t exactly pure things going on around there, murder was happening almost everyday now. You glanced over at the man to see what his thoughts were on the matter.

“It’s gone to seed a little. There’s no denying that.” The priest said. All though, for a man of faith, he was the kind of person that seemed to believe that there was good in this world. But you needed to add a little hard work to get what you wanted. “But that’s why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime, you work your butt off.”

You let out a quiet chuckle, nodding your head at his words before bringing the topic around to the reason why you were here. “Yeah, we heard about the murders.”

“The victims were parishioners of mine.” Father Reynolds said. “I’ve known them for years.“

"And the killers said that an angel made them do it?” Sam curiously asked.

You bit your bottom lip, knowing that was one of the questions that was beginning to pour a hole in the younger brother’s mind. Father Reynolds nodded his head, but it seemed that this was a theory he didn’t believe in himself. “Yes. Misguided souls. To think that God’s messenger would appear and incite people to murder-—it’s tragic.”

“So, you don’t believe in those angel yarns, huh?” Dean asked. You and the father stared at the man for just a moment from that kind of question. You shook your head at his stupidity, he really wanted to prove his brother wrong, but he was asking the wrong person.

“Oh, no, I absolutely believe. It kind of goes with the job description.” Father Reynolds said, pointing a finger at his white collar to prove the little detail the other man might have forgotten.

“Father, that’s Michael, right?“ Sam asked, looking over his shoulder at a painting hanging on the wall. You turned your head to examine the piece for a moment while the priest explained.

"That’s right.” Father Reynolds agreed, taking a step forward closer to the painting. “The archangel, Michael, with the flaming sword—the fighter of demons, holy force against evil.”

“So, they’re not really the hallmark-card version that everybody thinks?” You asked the priest, finding yourself wondering if this could have been true. You had brushed upon some old lore about them a while back, you were curious to see if it was really true. Sure would have made everything you were dealing with a bit more clearer. “They’re fierce, right? Vigilant.”

“I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful, but, yes,” The priest said, nodding his head in agreement. “A lot of scriptures paints angels as God’ warriors. ‘An angel of the Lord appeared to them, the glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified.’” All of you were quiet for a few moments, only managing to nod your heads from the passage from the bible that was spoken. “Luke 2:9.”

You smiled at the man, nodding your head again from what he had spoken, almost seemed like it was a perfect match from the situation. The four of you headed back to the front door of the church and stepped back outside to the winter’s air. You took one step to the concrete steps to make your way down. “Well,thank you for speaking with us, Father.” You said, giving the man standing next to you another smile for his help.

“It’s my pleasure.” He said. “Hope to see you again.”

“Father, what’s all that for?”

You looked over your shoulder to see a small memorial of candles and flowers decorated at the bottom stone wall. “Oh, that’s for Father Gregory. He was a priest here.” Father Reynolds explained. You repeated the past tense word, wondering what happened to the man. “He passed away right on these steps. He’s interred in the church crypt.”

“When did this happen?” Dean asked with a bit of surprise.

“Two months ago. He was shot for his car keys.“ He explained. You gave the man a sympathetic stare as you heard Sam mumble an apology. "Yeah, me too. He was a good friend. I didn’t even have time to administer his last rites. But like I said, it’s a tough neighborhood. And ever since he died, I’ve been praying my heart out.” 

“For what?”

“For deliverance…from the violence and the bloodshed around here.” Father Reynolds said. “We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose.”

If you didn’t know any better, it seemed like someone from above was trying to make sure that this one prayer in particular would come true. “Well, padre, thanks.” Dean spoke up, making your concentration break. He brought up a hand to shake with the priest. “We’ll see you again.”

You said your final goodbyes toward the man before watching him head back into the church. The three of you walked down the last set of stairs before going over to the small shrine. Dean leaned over and picked up the photograph of the priest. He was smiling the picture, dressed in his priest outfit. It almost seemed he had the kind of presence that would make anyone spill their deepest, darkest secrets so they would be free of their sins.

“Well, it’s all starting to make sense.” Dean said. Now, it was his turn to prove the point that he was trying to make since this case began. “Devoted priest dies a violent death—that’s vengeful-spirit material right there. And he knew all the stiffs cause they went to church here. In fact, I’m willing to bet, because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew.”

“Then again, father Reynolds started praying for God’s help about two months ago, right?” Sam decided to continue his own theory. Both of the brothers were arguing, but it was clear they agree on something. Wanting to prove each other wrong. “Right about the time this started?”

“Oh, come on man.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. “What’s your deal?”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at that question, “What do you mean?”

“Look, I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a skeptic,” Dean said, “But since when are you all Mr. '700 Club’?” You gave the man a glare to keep himself quiet, but you knew the feelings couldn’t be kept in any longer. “Seriously, from the get-go, you’ve been willing to buy this angel crap, man. What’s next? Are you gonna start praying every day?”

Dean leaned over to put the picture back down, his brother answered. “I do.”

“What?” Dean asked, seeming a bit taken back by that knowledge.

“I do pray every day.” Sam repeated himself again. “I have for a long time.”

Dean let out a quiet breath, almost sounding like a scoff. “The things you learn about a guy.” Dean mumbled, staring at his brother for a moment. “Huh. Come on. Let’s go check out Father Gregory’s grave.”

You watched from the corner of your eye as the older brother began to walk back into the church. A moment passed between you and the other man, his facial expression was gloomy. You weren’t the one to choose sides, but for now, but you were never raised to disrespect someone else’s choice on what they believed in. Your mother had taught you about everything as a way to broaden the world around you. All though she never spoke about her beliefs, she educated herself on other ones. She said an open mind is better than an ignorant one.

“Sam,” You mumbled the younger man’s name as his eyes trailed back to you. He looked at you, wondering if you were going to judge on what he had admitted. “Look, screw what your brother thinks. There’s got to be a balance in this world. Even though I’m not saying I believe, I won’t judge you if you do. I will always support you, no matter what.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Sam muttered, cracking a small smile. You nodded your head, returning the gesture. “It’s nice to have someone like you around.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

“Someone that still sees good in this world.”

\+ + +

You wandered into the crypt with Sam lingering behind, something else caught his attention, but it wasn’t enough to bring your own forward. As you crossed your arms over your chest and overlooked the many stone graves around the room, your eyes slowly trailed over to the man crouched on the ground. You took a step forward to read the name on the tomb, seeing that it belonged to the late father Gregory. Something about it seemed off compared to the rest. Vines were wrapped around it, and they looked awfully familiar. You reached out a hand to touch the brownish weeds, your fingers rubbing against the leaves. After a few seconds of silence, you glanced down to see that Dean was staring at you, knowing from that look alone, he wanted to hear you agree with him. But you turned your thoughts somewhere else.

“What is taking Sam so long?” You muttered, looking at the double doors. You waited for one of them to open up and see the taller hunter step inside, but after a moment passed, you began to grow worried. Walking over, you decided to peek outside, just to see him staring at something or talking to some priest, explaining a bogus story of what you were doing back here. But you stumbled upon the scene of him passed out on the ground, your face fell in fear. “Oh my, God. Sammy?”

You jumped from your spot in the doorway and raced toward the man’s side, your raised voice of panic was enough of warning for the other brother to see what the commotion was all about. You heard the older man call out Sam’s name once more and footsteps pounding on the concrete, racing forward to the scene. You tried your hardest to shake Sam again, mumbling his name again. After a few more seconds, you watched his eyes pop open as he sucked in a deep breath, coming back into consciousness. You let out a sigh of relief when he awoke from whatever happened to him while you were away.

“Sammy? Hey.” Dean helped his little brother up into a sitting position, trying to make sure the man was alright before asking the question. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah.” Sam managed to answer, letting in a few deep breaths. His eyes focused on the statue of an angel for a moment, his lips stretching into a grin. You glanced over to see what his attention was so heavily focused on, but your face dropped when you began to speculate what really happened. But you kept your lips shut. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You kept yourself useful and helped up the younger man from the ground, directing both of the brothers to a room off to the side for smaller groups of prayer. It was a safe place to keep all of you so you could figure out what was going on. “Come on.” You mumbled, lightly pushing the taller man into the room with the other one following behind. Closing the door, you let out a sigh and focused your attention on Sam, dying to ask the question. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Sam said, another lazy grin spreading across his lips. You shook your head, running a hand down your face in frustration. This was hitting too close to home. Sam was the perfect target, he wanted to prove that these creatures were real. But from what he was rambling on about, you could slowly feel yourself being forced to side with the other brother on this. “Y/N, I saw an angel. You told me to believe. And look what happened.”

Dean’s face scrunched up in confusion when he heard what his brother said, you just threw your hands up, not knowing what he was talking about. You and him had exchanged a few words, but it seemed that he had took the conversation with a different meaning. Dean reached a hand inside his leather jacket and pulled out a silver flask. He twisted off the top and brought it over to you, knowing from the stressed expression stretching across your face, it seemed that you were going to need the first swing.

You stared at the flask for a moment. Drinking in a church, that might be considered a sin in the eyes of God and all of his little angels. But you were pretty sure you had done worse things. So, you grabbed the bottle and took a quick sip. The whisky burned going down before it settled to a warm buzzle that tingled in your stomach. You ignored the half smirk that Dean gave you before he walked over to his brother, wanting to see if was up for it.

Sam just stared at the flask with the utmost disrespect, as if his older brother was swinging around some vile thing that went against his all of his sudden catholic morals. But Dean waved around the metal bottle, the liquid sloshing around a bit before settling down after his brother verbally turned the alcohol down. “I don’t want to drink.”

Dean shrugged it off, he brought the flask to his lips and took a long swing before swallowing, letting out a sharp breath from the burn. He put the cap back on and shoved the flask back into his pocket. “So, what you think you saw a, uh, angel?” He asked his little brother, who was now sitting down on one of the wooden benches.

“Just…” Sam tried to explain, shaking his head and he shrugged his shoulders. He still seemed to be in some sort of shock, but there was this glow about him, like he had just witnessed a miracle. “It appeared before me, and I just—this feeling washed over me, you know? Like—like peace, like grace.”

“Okay, ecstasy, boy,” Dean remarked, not believing one word his little brother had just said from what he saw. You quickly threw up a hand to smack the man from his unwanted comments that weren’t helping. “Maybe we’ll get you some glow sticks and a nice Dr. Seuss hat, huh?”

“Dean, I’m serious.” Sam argued. But his tone was still kept at a calm level as he explained more, but it was beginning to make you realize he was wrong. “It spoke to me. It knew who I was.”

“Sammy,” Your voice dropped into a quiet tone, giving the younger man a sympathized expression from what you were about to say to him. Even though he was wrapped up in this new mojo, he needed to know before he got his hopes up too much. “It was a spirit. And this isn’t the first time it could read someone’s mind.”

“Well, glad to know at least you’ve finally come to your senses, Y/N.” Your eyes trailed over to Dean, who was staring at his brother with a hardened expression. It was like just the topic of this was getting underneath his skin, the idea of proving his brother wrong, no matter what he had to say, was the only thing on his mind. He wandered over to one of the other wooden benches, sitting down a good length from Sam. You heard the wood creak from the pressure of his weight. “And let me guess, Sam—You were personally chosen to smite some sinner? You just go to wait for the divine back signal. Is that it?”

“Yeah, actually.” Sam said, nodding his head.

“Great.” Dean mumbled. “I don’t suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did.”

“Actually, it did, Dean,” Sam said in a matter of fact voice. “And the angel told me. He hasn’t done anything…yet. But he will.”

The older man got up from his sat, letting to out a quiet scoff. "Oh, this is—I don't’ believe this.”

“Dean, the angel hasn’t been wrong yet.“ Sam pointed out, his eyes following his brother’s slow paces across the church floors. "Someone’s gonna do something awful, and I can stop it.”

“You’re supposed to be bad, too, Sam.“ Dean broke the argument with a comment that made you growl the older man’s name in anger, mumbling for him to keep quiet. Of course, he kept running and the remarks came flying around without a care. "Maybe I should stop you too, right now.”

“You know what, Dean? I don’t understand. Y/N has been nothing but supportive.” The younger man dragged you into this, you wanted to sink down in your spot on the floor when you felt the other man’s eyes shift toward you. He questioned his brother with a serious tone, "Why can’t you consider the possibility?”

“What?” Dean asked. “That this is an angel?”

“Yes.” Sam said. You could hear his voice slowly turn into protective, as if he was trying to defend someone that was innocent in all of this matter, like this thing could have been stronger than either one of you. “Maybe we’re hunting an angel here, and we should stop. Maybe this is God’s will.”

Dean let the words soak in his mind for a moment before a small smile spread his lips, thinking that this was all just nonsense. He shook his head. “All right. Okay.” He said in a soft tone, pretending for a second to believe in what his brother was saying. “You know what? I get it. You’ve got faith. Y/N is your little cheerleader. That's—hey, good for you. I’m sure it makes things easier.“ He said, acting as if everything was fine, walking around the room again before he sat back down again. "I’ll tell you who else had faith like that—Mom. She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me.”

“You never told us that.” You found yourself saying, looking at the man with surprise at that confession. No wonder the man didn’t have any faith in anything from above. Everything is mother said turned out to be a lie. Suddenly you felt guilty for what you had done. “Dean, if we knew—"

“What’s to tell? She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her.” He said. You stared at the man, for someone who had seen nothing but wicked and evil, it was easy to believe that there was nothing else out there. “There is no higher power. There’s no God. There’s just chaos and violence and random, unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds. You want me to believe in this stuff? I’m gonna need to see some hard proof. You guys got any?” Of course, you and Sam were speechless, knowing there wasn’t a scrap of evidence to know what the hell was going anymore. But he did. “Well, I do. Proof that we’re dealing with a spirit.”

Knowing it was better to quit while you were this behind. you and the younger brother followed Dean, heading back to the to the crypt. The brothers crouched down to Father Gregory’s tomb, examining the vines that were only wrapped around the seemingly well kept headstone. From everyone else’s that you had seen, this was the most eye catching. Whatever was going on here, it seemed to have been making it clear that a spirit was truly involved. But even with all of this evidence put in front of him, Sam still didn’t seem to be backing down from his previous beliefs.

“That looks like—”

“It’s wormwood.” You said, cutting off the younger man. You glanced down at him, a small frown stretching across your lips. “A plant associated with the dead, specifically the ones that are not at rest. And I don’t see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest’s marker.”

“It’s him, Sam.” His older brother stated, glancing over at the man.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Dean, I don’t know what to think.” Sam admitted, still seeming conflicted from what was going on.

“Okay.” Dean muttered, looking at the tombstone again for a moment. He was quiet for a moment, as if he was thinking about his next plan of action. "Want some proof? I’ll give you more proof.“

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "How?”

“We’ll summon Gregory’s spirit.” Dean said, as if that would solve everything.

“What?” Sam asked. From his tone of voice, you were expecting for his eyes to bulge out of his head from the choice of setting that seemed nothing more than wrong. “Here? In the church?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, getting up from the ground, acting as if this was completely normal. But this was a new, strange one for you. Never have you actually summoned someone before. “We just need a few odds and ends and that séance ritual in Dad’s journal.”

"A séance, great.” Sam muttered, his typical sarcasm shining through. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, knowing it wasn’t appreciated. “I hope Whoopi’s available.”

“That’s funny, actually. Seriously.” Dean said, pretending to play along for a moment before giving his brother a stern facial expression. “If Father Gregory’s spirit is around, the séance will bring him right to us. If it’s him, then we’ll put him to rest.”

“But if it’s an angel, it won’t show.” Sam said, pointing out that small flaw he saw in that plan he saw to use in his own advantage. “Nothing will happen.”

“Exactly.” Dean agreed. “It’s one of the perks of the job, Sam. We don’t have to operate on faith. We can know for sure. Don’t you want to know for sure?”

\+ + +

Some local corner store in the end of town held all the small loose ends that needed to be cut. Most of it was sort of silly to wonder if this could work, but you grabbed it anyway. There was a small window all of you had to use, and you weren’t going to waste this time questioning every detail. After rummaging up the products and buying them, you and the brothers exited the shop, heading back into the cold night air with Sam carrying the paper bag full of your supplies.

“Dude, all right, I’ll admit, we’ve gone pretty ghetto with the spell work before,” Sam spoke up, bringing up your choice in a small detail that made you quietly laugh at how bad it sounded when he said it out loud. “I mean, a Spongebob place mat instead of an altar cloth?”

“We’ll just put it Spongebob-side-down.” You said, shrugging your shoulders, seeming to think that would be a simple problem solved.

Following behind Dean, the both of you stepped down to the sidewalk and began to head for the Impala. You were barely reaching for the door handle when you heard a familiar voice freeze from what he had said next. “Guys, that’s it.” Sam whispered. You looked around to see what he was pointing to. It was just a teenage boy, across the street, seeming to be minding his own business, unaware of what speculation that began to surround him. “That’s the sign.”

“Where?” You questioned the man, your face scrunching up in confusion.

“Right behind that guy.” Sam answered. His eyes locked on the younger man, a glare spread across his face. “That’s him, guys. And we have to stop him.”

As the cross light turned green for the younger man to go, you watched from the corner of your eye as Sam took one giant step to confront. You had to tackle Sam, who was nearly twice your size in weight and height, so he didn’t end up strangling the future sinner. You clutched his jacket, vigorously shaking your head to keep him from taking another step and doing something he’ll regret after this little spell of holiness wore off. "Wait a minute, sasquatch. Let’s think about this.”

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned, glancing down at your hands. You were keeping an iron grip on him, at least a strong enough of one to keep him pinned in place for just a moment.

“Look, I’ve been pretty lenient with you.” You said, remaining somewhat calm until you decided to get forceful with him. “But you’re not gonna kill someone because a ghost told you to.”

“I’m not gonna kill him.” Sam corrected you. “I’m gonna stop him.”

“Really? Because the last three people that helped this ghost are rotting in jail, you idiot.” You said, trying to keep yourself from knocking a sense or two into the man. “Define ‘stop,’ huh? I mean, what are you gonna do?”

Sam wasn’t paying much attention, his focus was kept on the boy as he watched him walk to his car. When the headlights turned on, he glanced back over at you with a worried expression, knowing that time was running out before something serious could happen. You swallowed, making yourself draw eye contact with the taller man. “Y/N, please.” Sam pleaded with you, staring at you with those damn puppy eyes that always seemed to persuade you into doing anything. “He’s gonna hurt someone. You know it.”

You and the younger man turned to look at Dean, wondering what his plan of action was going to be. He had the car keys after all. “All right, come on.” He said, giving into the idea that something wrong could happen. The guilt of knowing that you could have prevented something would eat you all alive. It would have been better to be safe than sorry, after all.

Dean shoved a hand inside his leather jacket and pulled out his car keys, only managing to open up the driver’s side and slip himself inside. You could tell what his plan was when you didn’t hear the familiar sound of locks popping open. Sam reached out a hand to open his door, but it remained shut. “Dean.” Sam called out to his brother, bending down to look at the man when he heard the engine turn over. “Unlock my door.”

“You’re not killing anyone, Sam.” Dean said, pointing a finger at his little brother. “I got this guy. You go to the séance with Y/N.” Sam didn’t exactly like the change in plans, saying the man’s name one more time in anger before the both of you watched as the Impala drove off into the night, following whatever heinous crime that was about to unfold.

\+ + + 

Back at the crypt, you and Sam worked through mostly silence, except for the occasional whispered questions and points at objects. You set up the ritual and did your small parts by dropping herds here and there into the candles when needed, leaving the latin for the younger man, knowing he had more experience with the dead language. As you were halfway through the plan, you reached down and pinched a small amount of a grainy substance when you felt Sam’s eyes linger off the page, giving you the cue to sprinkle it over the large candle. A second later, a spark, almost like a firework, went off, seeing the both of you jumping the slightest in surprise. But neither one of you had a chance to continue when you heard a voice echo off the stone walls.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes jumped from the floor as they went eyed slightly. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Father Reynolds standing in the doorway, his facial expressions were nothing more than furious. Oh, this was going to be a tough one to explain. "What is this?”

You and Sam stared at one another for a split second, trying your hardest to figure out the right thing to say. You heard the journal close shut as the both of you stumbled up to your feet. Giving the priest a weak smile, the both of you tried your hardest to start with the truth. “Father, please. We can explain.” Sam said, guesting an arm over to the floor. “Uh…actually, maybe I can’t.”

"This is a…you know,” You took a step forward, giving the man a smile, knowing you were going to get the speech about burning in Hell from what you were about to say. “a séance.”

“A séance?” The priest repeated after you, his voice was full of anger and disgust. “Young lady, you are in a house of God.”

You gave him a weak smile, “It’s based on early Christian rites, if that helps.”

“Enough.” He ordered. Grabbing you and Sam by the arm, he yanked both of you forward to the door. “You two are coming with me.”

“Father, please, just wait a second.” Sam tried to reason with the man, but it was working. Just as you stepped into the doorway with your back turned to the room, something stopped all of you in your spot. It was like a sudden blinding light.

Looking over your shoulder, you had to shield your eyes for a moment to see what was going on. At first, the sight would make anyone believe that it could have been someone from above. But you know summoning worked, it was just a spirit.

“Oh, my God.” Father Reynolds muttered in surprise, his fixation kept on the sight of something that he had never seen before. “Is that…Is that an angel?”

You couldn’t help but glance over at the younger man, knowing this wasn’t what he wanted to happen. He wanted so badly to believe that there was something good out there to give him a split of hope. But in the end, his brother was right about everything.

“No, it’s not.” He said, just hearing the disappointment in his voice made you feel guilty of the matter. “It’s just Father Gregory.”

When the show vanished, there stood the priest that had died just a few months ago, a warm smile spread across his lips when he heard the other man shout his name in surprise. “Thomas!”

“I’ve come in answer to your prayers.”

\+ + + 

Father Gregory stood across from the rest of you, a somewhat strange glow was radiating off the man, like he had been thinking he was something more than he wasn’t. His eyes slowly directed themselves on the younger man, his lips stretched into a slight frown. “Sam,” He spoke with surprise, seeing the man he thought was supposed to have been directing to a better life, a chance at redemption. “I thought I’d sent you on your path. You should hurry.”  
“Father, I’m sorry.” The younger man apologized, knowing that everything happening was because someone was taking their faith a little too serious. One of you needed to stop it before someone else could get hurt. Letting out a quiet sigh, he forced himself to speak the truth. “But you’re not an angel.”

“Of course I am.” Father Gregory stated, still seeming in denial from what he was hearing. 

“No. You’re a man. You’re a spirit.” Sam tried to explain, further into details that the other one could understand. “And you need to rest.”

A small smile spread across the man’s lips, quickly correcting all of you from what he was believing since his tragic passing a few months ago. “I was a man,” Father Gregory said, agreeing for a moment before saying what he truly thought he’d transformed. “But I’m an angel. I was on the steps of the church. I felt that bullet pierce right through me. But there was no pain. And suddenly, I could see…everything.” The man was quiet for a moment, his eyes trailing over to the older priest. “Father Reynolds, I saw you, praying and crying here. I came to help you.”

“Help me how?” Father Reynolds questioned the younger man, his face scrunched up from the peculiar talk that was happening. But when the dots slowly came together, he looked at the man with surprise at what he had done, even from beyond the grave. “Those murders—they were because of you?”

“I received the word of God. He spoke to me, told me to smite the wicked. I’m carrying out his will.” Father Gregory answered, you looked at him with anger. 

“You’re driving innocent people to kill.” You pointed out, knowing that Sam could have easily been dragged into this mess if none of you were quick enough to figure out what you were dealing with. You stared at the man, knowing what the had said next made your skin crawl, only because it was true. Everyone that he picked was wicked in their own way, deep down, looking for redemption from their sins.

“Those innocent people are being offered redemption.” He said, you gave him a cold glare when his eyes trailed over the the younger man. “Some people need redemption. Don’t they, Sam?” 

“How can you call this redemption?” Father Reynolds asked the priest, knowing that this was going against all the beliefs that he had swore to keep. They were supposed to help direct the troubled souls to find peace with their sins and come clean, not to find others and punish for what they had done. Or what they were thinking about doing. 

Father Gregory turned his gaze away from the younger man to stare at the other priest, a smile spread across his lips, as if his old mentor was just a small simpleton who hasn’t seen the light and it was his duty. “You can’t understand it now. But the rules of man and the rules of God are two very different things.”

“Those people, the ones you were trying to save,” You said, not backing down to prove that what he was doing was wrong and dangerous. No life was worth more than another. “They’re locked up because of you.”

“No, they’re at peace.” The priest corrected you. “They’re at peace, they’ve beaten their demons. And I have given them the keys to heaven.”

“No, no.” Father Reynolds muttered out, shaking his head in disapproval from what he was hearing. “This is vengeance. This is wrong. Thomas, this goes against everything you believed. You’re lost, misguided.”

 

“Father,” The younger priest titled his head to the side, giving the man a sort of look that made him think that he was the one that was right about everything that he was believing in. “No, I’m not misguided.”

 

"You are not an angel, Thomas.” Father Reynolds said for the final time, trying his hardest to clear up the confusion that had landed the reason why this trouble even began. “Men cannot be angels.”

Father Gregory’s face slowly dropped in realization that the man standing across of him could have been right. He stood there for a few moments, speechless to learn that he was just a spirit, nothing more. "But…But I don’t understand.” He muttered out, turning his gaze between the three of you before settling it back on the other priest. “You prayed for me to come.”

“I prayed for God’s help, not this.” He corrected the younger man, shaking his head ever so slowly. “What you’re doing is not God’s will. ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ That’s the word of God.”

The room fell into a deep silence when Father Gregory began to think deeper into all the different accusations that were being thrown around. He slowly turned around to face his grave, staring at the numbers showing the moment he was brought into this world, and toward the time that ended it all. You weren’t sure if he was processing this information as his way of moving on to the otherside, Sam quietly spoke up, knowing that this job needed to be finished up.

“Let us help you.” He offered, his voice was quiet and soft.

“No,” Father Gregory said to stand his ground. But he was slowly breaking down.

“It’s time to rest, Thomas, be at peace. Please, let me give you last rites.” Father Reynolds said, giving the man a chance to end his last moments on earth peacefully. The younger priest glanced over at Sam, just wanting clarification that he was nothing more than a ghost, and with a nod from the man’s head, his face dropped slightly. But, he agreed. Father Reynolds let a smile grow across his lips, reaching out and putting his palms up to the ceiling. “O holy hosts above, I call upon thee as a servant of Christ to sanctify our actions this day in fulfillment of the will of God.”

You heard a small gasp escape the older man’s mouth when he saw the priest standing before him beginning to fade away. “Father Reynolds?” The man asked, knowing that it was time to continue again. He was ready to finish this process, once and for all.

“Rest.” Reynolds muttered, reaching out a hand. You watched as Father Gregory slowly dropped down to his knees. “I call upon the archangel Raphael, master of the air, to make open the way.” He placed his palm on the man’s forehead, containing the chant. “Let the fire of the holy spirit now descend, that this being might be awakened to the world beyond.” And with that final words, all of you watched as the man slowly drifted out of this world, more peaceful than the rest of the spirits you had come in contact with.

\+ + +

You and Sam arrived back at the motel room, barely any words spoken between the both of you. What had happened not even an hour ago was challenging, it made the both of you wonder if there was something really out there. But you kept your lips tight and busied yourself with packing up. You glanced up from the clothes every so often, wanting to see if Sam was in the mood to talk, but his attention was heavily focused on making sure he folded a certain shirt right. You let out a quiet sight, turning your sight on the window when you saw a blurry figure come into view. A few seconds later, you heard the motel door open to see Dean, Sam barely acknowledge the man’s presence as he continued on packing.

"How was your day?” Dean asked the both of you, shutting the door with a thump.

The older brother walked deeper into the room, watching as Sam shuffled around a few clothes before giving up, knowing that the attention was on him now. He glanced up from his duffel bag to stare at his brother. “You were right.” Sam said, giving his brother the not so satisfaction of knowing the truth. “It wasn’t an angel. It was Gregory.”

Dean let out a quiet breath. He reached a hand inside his jacket and pulled out the flask again, deciding to take a drink from the terrible conclusions that were drawn from today. You shook your head when you saw the metal container in front of your face before it was being pawned off on his little brother. Sam stared at it for a few moments, but it didn’t take much more thought before he grabbed it and took a long swing. He dropped the canister down and began putting the lid back out, a small sigh escaped his lips.

“I don’t know, Dean, I just…I wanted to believe, so badly.” Sam started out again, slowly dropping himself to the bed. “It’s so damn hard to do this—what we do—all alone, you know? There’s so much evil out in the world, guys, I feel like I could drown in it. And, when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up…”

"Well, don’t worry about that. Alright?” You said, dropping yourself to one of the beds so you were now across from him. You could feel the bed dip down deeper from the weight Dean put on it after following in your actions. “We’ll be watching out for you. Like we always do.”

“Yeah, I know you are. But you’re just two people, Y/N.“ Sam mumbled. "And I needed to think that there was something else watching, too, you know? Some…higher power, some greater good. And that maybe…”

You raised an eyebrow, “Maybe what?”

Sam was quiet for a few moments as he swallowed, “Maybe I could be saved.” He admitted, slowly turning his gaze toward you and his brother. Your eyes softened from what he had said, while his brother turned his gaze somewhere else, letting out a quiet sigh. “But, you know, that just clouded my judgement. And you’re right, Dean. I mean, we got to go with what we know, with what’s right there in front of our own two eyes.”

“Well, it’s funny you say that.” Dean mumbled.

Sam stared at his brother, “Why?”

“Gregory’s spirit gave you some pretty good information. That guy in the car was bad news.” Dean explained what happened to him tonight. “I barely got there in time.”

“What happened?” You asked the man.

You could feel his gaze linger on you for a moment before he answered. “He’s dead.”

“Did you…”

“No.” Dean clarified, all though from his facial expression, you could tell from what had went down he would have done it himself, anyway. “But I’ll tell you one thing. The way he died, if hadn’t have seen it with my own two eyes, I never would have believed it. I mean…I don’t know what to call it.”

You and Sam were hanging on every word the man was saying, “What?” You questioned the man. But when he remained silent for a moment longer, you pushed him again. “Dean, what did you see?”

“Maybe…” Dean tried to force out the words, knowing that deep down, he was beginning to wonder if what had happened was meant to be. Maybe there was more out there than he was letting himself believe. You could feel yourself leaning in for the answer you weren’t expecting. "God’s will.“


	14. Born Under a Bad Sign.

You sat in the passenger side of the Impala, the light rainfall coming from outside was hitting the roof as you scrolled through your contacts again. It had been exactly eleven days since you heard from Sam, the longest amount of time that you allowed to pass in the ten years of being back together. You didn’t know what happened; he was heading out to grab a late dinner for all of you from some place just a few blocks from the motel. But when he wasn’t back an hour after leaving, that’s when you began to grow worried. The missing duffel bag from the trunk wasn’t a good sign, either. Sam wasn’t the type of person that would vanish with no rhyme or reason. You were worried for the first five days. Now, you were beginning to fear the worst outcome.

Your eyes trailed up from your phone after you shoved it inside your jacket, finally admitting defeat on tracking down the younger man. Dean was sitting on the hood of the car, calling all of the hunters that Sam might have tried to contact in case something happened that he didn’t want you or Dean finding out. He had done it before when traveling to Indiana with you to search for answers, Ellen seemed like the best case to figure out where the hell he was, that’s where Ash, the boy genius, hung out. But halfway through the conversation, you heard him excuse himself to take another call. You weren’t thinking much about who it could have been, but your head shot up when the familiar name rang through your ears.

“Sammy, where the hell are you? Are you okay?” Dean questioned his little brother that was on the other end. You opened up your car door and stepped outside, heading over to see what was going on. “Hey, hey, hey, hey. Calm down. Where are you?” There was a slight pause before you could her a faint, mumbled location. Your heart fluttered with relief. “Don’t move. We’re on our way.”

Neither one of you were going to waste another minute to question what was going on. This was your only lead that you had going. You barely slipped yourself into the passenger seat and closed the door before Dean slammed his foot on the gas, heading to where Sam was hiding out.

\+ + +

107…108… Your eyes trailed over the rusty golden plates on the motel doors, frantically pacing down the halls to see which one Dean had told you his brother rented. When you found the right number, you stopped yourself in your tracks and pounded your fist against the door. “Sam, it’s me.” You called out, waiting to hear the lock clicking back into place. But after a second, you knocked again with more force as you felt your patience running thin. "Sam!” Still, there was nothing.

You decided to just try and open the door, only expecting to be locked out. But when you saw the door creak open slightly, you glanced over at Dean with worry, unexpected to see that happened. He took a step forward and pushed open the door with his hand, taking a sweep of the room before stopping his sights on something. You peeked your head inside, wondering what caught his attention Sam sitting on the edge of a bed, staring off into the distance. You walked deeper into the room and closed the door quietly behind you, giving all of you privacy.

“Hey.” Dean said, taking a few steps to his brother.

“Hey, guys.” Sam whispered out. He still wouldn’t look at either one of you.

You walked over to the man, scanning his appearance to see if he was all right. But you found yourself staring in curiosity of what stained his hands, all though when you leaned in further to inspect what it was, you crouched down in panic.

“Are you bleeding?” You questioned the man, grabbing his fingers to inspect the dull red marks on his skin.

“I tried to wash it off.” Sam explained to the both of you. As you continued to inspect his well being, you knew that wasn’t the rest of it. When you caught sight of blood soaked fabric, your hands fumbled forward and ripped open the jacket he was wearing to see it was all over his shirt. You heard Dean mumble something in fright, you looked at the younger man with concern. “I don’t think it’s my blood.”

“Whose is it?” Dean questioned the man.

Sam stared down at his shirt, looking confused at the mess he was sitting in, more than you or his brother. “I don’t know.” Sam admitted. You could tell from his voice that he had to be telling the truth. But you still needed to know the events that took place before you got here.

“Sam, what the hell happened?” You asked the man in a rushed, forced calm tone.

“Y/N,” The younger man glanced up from his shirt slightly, his eyes beginning to gloss over from his own fear of what was going on. You swallowed slightly, nervous from what he admitted next. “I don’t remember anything.”

You spent a moment trying to process the information; you knew what it was like to be in this sort of situation where you had no memory of what happened before. The only difference between you and the younger Winchester was that he didn’t seem to be showing any signs of physical assault that would end in some sort of amnesia. The only wounds that he seemed to have sustained was the blood soaked shirt and hands, which you were beginning to realize really wasn’t his own.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you knew figuring out what happened here wasn’t going to go well with Sam still wearing that shirt. And you didn’t even know if he booked this room under a real name. Another problem if the clerk at the desk was caught up with current events, too. You managed to stand up with a hand flying up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You could feel a nasty headache forming from the stress and worst scenarios cramming themselves in for a tight fit, all screaming for your full attention.

“Um, okay. Let’s not panic here just yet.” You muttered, to what felt like yourself. But you snapped yourself out of it when you glanced down to see Sam staring at you like a lost puppy, afraid of what he had done and Dean trying his hardest to process what he’d just heard. “Okay, you know what? Dean, I want you to go talk to the front desk and see what you can find out. Sammy, change out of that shirt and wash your hands again. Scrub them until you bleed for real, I don’t care. We just need figure out what the hell is going on.”

\+ + +

You patiently waited for Dean to arrive back from figuring out what happened when his brother arrived here. You sat on one of the beds crossed legged, keeping the silence between you and the other brother alive and well. Most of your attention was focused on tugging off a loose string on the bottom of your shirt. Every so often you would glance up to see how Sam was doing. Now in a fresh shirt with his old one buried deep in the trash out back, he still wouldn’t say anything to you. And you were fine with that. There were so much speculation and fear running around in your mind, the poor boy had to be ten times as worst.

When you heard the motel door open, your head quickly shot up again to see that Dean was back from his own investigation. He quietly closes the door behind him with a free hand, the other carrying a paper bag of food for another late dinner. Your stomach involuntarily growled, softly enough for only you to hear as you pushed yourself off the bed to head over and hear what he had found. Sam turned around from the dresser and stared at his brother with anxious curiosity.

“What did you find out?” Sam asked first, not even giving his brother a chance to put the keys to the room in his pocket before the questions started coming out.

“You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora.” Dean explained, setting down the food. Your eyebrows furrowed. That name sounded familiar, but it wasn’t any of the ones used for a regular false name. Course, the one you all came up with sometimes weren’t the most creative. “I think the most scariest part about this whole this whole thing is that you’re a Bon Jovi fan.”

"Dean, please.” You warned him, rolling your eyes at his always inappropriate timed jokes.

“Your room’s been quiet.” Dean said, throwing his hands up, knowing this wasn’t what either one of you wanted to hear at this time. “Nobody’s noticed anything unusual.”

“You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?” Sam rhetorically asked, taking a few steps forward across the room in frustration. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it meant that he didn’t raise any suspicion enough for the cops to be called.

“Yeah, that’s what I mean.” Dean said, shrugging off the worry.

“Then how the hell did I get here?” Sam questioned the both of you. “What happened to me?”

“I don’t know, but you’re okay, and that’s what matters.” You said, trying to remain the optimistic one here. “Everything else, we can deal with.” 

“Oh, really? Cause what if I hurt someone, Y/N, or worse?” Sam asked with anger. You mumbled his name, giving him a serious look to calm down. Stress wasn’t going to help, but what he said next wasn’t exactly helpful to the situation, either. “What if this is what Dad warned you about?”

"Whoa, whoa. Come on, man. Let’s not jump the gun here. We don’t know what happened. We got to treat this like any other job. ” Dean jumped into the conversation, obviously not liking the accusation his brother was using on himself. “What’s the last thing you remember?“

Sam let out a quiet sigh and thought about that question for a few seconds. "Me and you in that motel room in west Texas.” Sam answered, taking a few steps until he sat himself on the edge of the bed. “We went out to grab some burgers.”

“West Texas—Sam, wait,” You shook your head, realizing the long gap of time between then and this very moment. “That was over a week ago.”

“That’s it.” He said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. There wasn’t much, but you had hoped there would be just a bit more. “Next thing I knew, I was sitting here…bloody. I felt like I had been asleep for a month.”

“Okay, retrace your steps. Manager said you left yesterday afternoon and never saw you come back.” Dean said, heading over to across the room. He walked to the window that overlooked the parking lot and pushed the white curtains aside, but what he discovered wasn’t exactly leaving a pleasant feeling for a good outcome. “Hey.”

You and Sam headed over to see what the man had discovered. As your eyes trailed down to the latch for the window, you could feel them widen slightly when you saw smears of dried blood on the metal handle.

\+ + +

You shoved your hands inside your jacket and followed behind the brothers into the motel parking lot, observing the younger man as he scanned the area. If he had come back to the motel by sneaking through the window, it would have explained the blood and how the manager didn’t see him come back. But it still didn’t explain where he went off, or where he got the blood. You had hoped something was going to spark his memory. Answers is what you needed right now.

You had heard cases about people blacking out and going on fits of rage that ranged from destruction of property to rare occasions of murder. But you knew Sam too well, he wasn’t the type of man to hurt an innocent human being. And he also wasn’t the type of run off like this, either.

“Recognize anything?” You heard Dean ask, making break concentration from your personal thoughts.

Sam glanced around the area for a few moments longer before shaking his head. “Not really.” He said, you let out a breath and continued on walking. The three of made it about halfway across the parking lot before he stopped and stared at something for a moment. “Wait. I think I was here.”

You glanced over to see that you stopped in front of a line of storage units. “You remember?”

"Not really.” Sam admitted, not exactly the answer you were looking for. But he followed himself up with, “It just…feels familiar, you know?” Dean headed over to the first storage unit, tugging at the lock to see if it would open, but it wouldn’t budge. His brother pointed to the second. “Try that one.” So, you watched as the older man walked to the second until and did the same process, with. the same outcome happened. Sam’s brows furrowed when another familiarity washed over to him. “Wait.” He shoved a hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a key.

Sam handed over the key and watched as the other man shoved it inside the lock, almost waiting to hear that it didn’t fit. But to everyone’s surprise, the latch popped open. You glanced over at Sam, the both of you sharing the same look from what happened. And the surprises keep coming. You walked over to the storage until with Sam on your heels. Dean bent down and opened the metal door, shoving it upwards until you heard it lock into place. You saw what was hiding behind door number two was a very old, beat up looking motor buggy.

“Please tell me you didn’t steal this.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

You took the trunk of the car and the brothers headed for the front seats to figure out what clues you could find. You pushed open the heavy, rusty metal trunk with a bit of force to see what you could find. Other than some scraps of paper and dirt, there was nothing suspicious of what was going on here. You walked over to the driver’s side of the car to see if the boys had found anything. Sam was bent over, his eyes examining the steering wheel with widening eyes. His fingers ran across the leather to feel the familiar sticky substance.

“More blood.” Sam said, showing his brother.

But you knew that was the least of his worries when you glanced down to see the bigger mess that awaited his discovery. “Sam, backseat.” You whispered, pointing your index finger on the blood stained hunting knife. You watched as he reached out an arm and grabbed the knife, the stickiness sound of the dried blood breaking apart from the plastic floor covered echoed in your ears.

Sam stared at the knife with an almost panicked expression. “You think I used this on someone?” He asked the both of you. You turned your gaze away from the man, not knowing what was the right thing to say.

“I’m not thinking anything.” Dean simply said.

The both of you watched as his little brother did the only logical thing next, wiping his fingerprints from a possible weapon so it couldn’t be traced back to him. If he was involved with whatever happened. “Okay, now, this is disturbing.” You over to see that Dean had found an opened pack of cigarettes, discarded on the passenger’s side floor. “Come on, man. This couldn’t have been you. it could have been someone else—somebody who uh,” He lifted the box to his nose to take a sniff, "smokes menthols.”

“Hey,” Sam grabbed a crumbled piece of paper from the ground and quickly unfolded it to see what it was before showing you and his brother. “A gas receipt, a few towns over.”

\+ + +

You sat in the backseat again, watching as the Impala slowly pulled up to the gas station, which seemed to have been pretty slow from the lack of other people around here. Dean parked the car and observed the piece of paper for a moment. “All right, receipt’s for ten gallons at pump number two.” He said, glancing over at his brother, who was looking at the place. “You getting any goose bumps yet? "God, this looks familiar,’ déjà vu vibes?”

Sam just shook his head, knowing that the luck from before didn’t seem to have followed you here. As you continued observing around for more clues, your eyes focused themselves on the building. “Maybe someone inside will remember you.” You said, reaching to push open the door, swing your legs out to touch the pavement. “Come on.”

You and the brothers began to head inside the shop, hearing the familiar ding echo through as you stepped inside. You were in sync with the oldest brother whole Sam lingered behind, examining around the place to see if he could remember anything, but your head whipped forward the guy working the counter. It seemed he remembered Sam all right, but with his unexpected outburst, you knew whatever the younger man has done, it sure as hell wasn’t a good one. Your face scrunched up in confusion when the man looked like he had saw his worst enemy.

“You—out of here.” The man commanded, but it soon turn to a threat that you weren’t happy to hear. “I’m calling the cops.”

“You talking to him?” Dean asked to clarify what was going on. He pointed a finger over his shoulder at his little brother. Sam could feel all eyes shift on him, who was beginning to now look like a deer in headlights.

“Yeah, I’m talking to him.” The clerk snapped, turning his attention to Dean from that question. “Jerk comes in here yesterday, stinking drunk. Grabs a forty from the fridge and starts chugging it.”

“This guy?” You point a finger at the man standing behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you gave the youngest Winchester a peculiar look from the accusations being thrown around about him. “You drink malt liquor?” Sam just shrugged his shoulders, confused about this as you were.

“Not after he whipped the bottle at my friggin’ head.” The clerk continued this story. You looked at the man with a scrunched up face.

“This guy?”

“What, am I speaking Urdu?” The clerk snapped at you and Dean, obviously not happy with the repeated questions.

Sam gave the man a shocked expression, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’m really sorry if I did anything—” He tried his hardest to apologize for whatever he might have done during his blackout moments, but he couldn’t say another word when the clerk cut him off.

“Tell your story walking pal, okay?” He reached for the phone, his fingers hovering over the buttons. “Popo will be here in five.”

“Wait, he’s leaving. Put the phone down.” Dean quickly jumped into the conversation, putting hands up to stop the man. He looked over at his brother. “Sam, go wait in the car.”

“But, Dean—”

“Go wait in the car!” You ordered at the taller man, scolding him with a warning look. He wasn’t very happy from how you and Dean were acting, but after a few seconds, he turned around and walked outside. You turned your attention back to the clerk. A polite smile grew across your lips, hoping that would win the man over. “Okay, look, we just want to talk to you, that’s it, okay?”

The clerk moved his eyes between you and Dean for a few seconds, suspicious of what was going on. But after a moment, you watched as he put the phone back on the hook. “When he took off yesterday, which way did he go?” Dean asked, hoping for some clarification. All though, it seemed the man wasn’t feeling too cooperative.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Cause I’m asking you.”

“Please,” You placed your hands on the counter and and leaned forward, giving the man a pleading look. “You’d be doing me a huge favor, okay?”

“Oh, do you a favor. Well, that is what I live for.” He remarked, brushing off any sort of sympathy you could get from him. You threw him a dirty glare. “You know, your buddy didn’t pay for the booze or the smokes, which he also illegally lit up.”

“You saw him smoking?” Dean asked with surprise, that linked Sam to the car and the cigarettes he found on the floor.

“Yeah, guy’s a chimney.” The clerk responded. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

You and Dean stared at one another for a moment, not sure what was going on anymore. This behavior wasn’t like the man sitting outside; Sam was the responsible one, never drank more than one beer and you swore he wasn’t the type to put something deadly like cigarettes even near his mouth. Something weird was going on. And it was beginning to toll on your mind, wondering what it was that was making him out to be the complete opposite of himself.

Dean cleared his throat as he reached a hand to his back pocket to pull out his wallet, deciding to pay for his brother’s past damage to win the clerk over. “This, uh,” He slipped out a few twenties and slapped them on the counter, “Ought to cover it.”

“Hmm, it’s, uh, it’s coming back to me now.” The clerk said, glancing down at the money for a second. “He took two packs.”

“Of course he did.” You heard Dean muttered underneath his breath, the other man smirked to himself as Dean smacked down another twenty.

“He went north on route seventy-one, straight out of town.” The clerk explained the details, scooping up the money with one hand before counting out the bills. You gave the man a smug smile, reaching down to sneak your favorite candy bar before heading back to the Impala to continue this scavenger hunt.

\+ + +

Night had fallen after making into a new town, all though from the endless amount of trees and pavement ahead, there were probably endless amounts of private homes or just acres of untouched land. Your eyes were glued to the passing scenery, the car had been quiet for most of the ride. Sam was staring out the window, keeping himself busy with trying to figure out what could a clue to piecing together the blank memories he didn’t have. Dean took his eyes off the road for a moment and glanced over at his brother, deciding to take this moment to confront the man from his reckless behavior that was too strange to keep ignoring.

“What’s going on with you, Sam, hmm?” Dean questioned his brother. “The smoking, throwing bottles at people—that sounds more like me than you.”

“Dean, wait. Wait. Here.” Sam cut off whatever heart to heart moment his brother was trying to have. That familiar feeling began to come back to him, he quickly leaned forward and pointed at something on the right side. “Turn down that road.”

“What?” Dean asked with confusion.

“I don’t know how I do know.” Sam said, but he wasn’t going to let this chance slip away from him. He wasn’t wrong before about the other few times, this might have been the big clue all of you were looking for. “I just do.”

Dean was hesitant to see where this went, but he turned the car around and began driving down the private road. You watched as a few streetlights began to come on, probably motion censored for whoever lived here. The Impala parked right across from a home, buried deep from most of town. You got out of the car with the brothers following behind to check out the premises. As the three of you walked just a few feet to the porch steps, another spotlight went off. You squinted your eyes to see something you weren’t quite expecting to notice, a security camera hanging above the fluorescent lights.

“Whoever lives here, I’d say they don’t like surprises.” Sam muttered.

You gave the man a quick look before heading up the porch steps with the brothers following behind. You noticed that most of the lights were off, which began to make you wonder if anyone was home. It was strange for Sam to be drawn here, maybe it was an old family friend that moved. But neither one of them seemed to have a clue of who it was. You made it to the front door first, but you stopped, not knowing what to do next. It was late at night, you felt sort of weird to be disturbing a complete stranger at this hour. 

“Should we knock?” You asked, glancing over at the younger man that was standing next to your left side.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sam said. He sounded a bit funny, like he was preoccupied with other things. You turned your head away from the door to see that his eyesight was focused on the other side of the porch. Shrugging it off, you watched from the corner of your eye as he headed over to a window. You knocked a few times and waited. But your attention shifted back to the younger man. “Hey, guys.”

You walked over to where Sam was standing, curious to what he had found. Your eyes trailed down to see his flashlight was spotting down on something like broken glass, you heard it crunch underneath your shoes after you took another step forward. “I’m surprised the cops didn’t show up,” Dean said as his brother began to wander deeper into the place. You glanced away from the window and looked at the younger man, watching as he observed something. “Place like this you’d think would have an alarm.”

Sam reached out an arm to flick open the metal power box he stumbled upon, a bad feeling began to sit in his stomach when he saw a pair of pliers stuck on a few cut wires. The bad thing was, all of this was beginning to feel familiar. “Yeah, you would.”

You stepped over to the front door and twisted the handle, you could feel it turn all the way and slowly push open with little force. Standing quiet for a moment, all you heard was your soft breathing and steady heartbeat. You reached inside your pocket for your flashlight and turned it on, heading first inside the house to see what laid inside for all of you. What you saw first was a mess.

Crushed pieces of plates and vases echoed were hard to avoid as the crunching sound rang through your ears as you walked deeper into the trashed house. This pace looked like someone had gotten into a rather deadly fight; chairs were turned over and broken, frames were lopsided making it seem like someone was thrown up against the wall. Nothing you passed by seemed to have been safe from destruction. You stumbled a bit from a shard of glass, but managed to catch yourself before falling into the dangerous debris.

All of you walked a bit further into the house before stopping in the middle of the hallway, taking a quick sweep of a few different rooms. When you sniffed the air a few times, your nose scrunched up. Something was off, you could recognize that smell from anywhere. Your stomach clenched from nervousness as you turned around and headed into another room, the brothers following behind in curiosity of what you were looking for. As your flashlight began to scan the room, you eyes slowly dropped to the floor to confirm the suspicion you were dreading to see. A body of a man was lying on the floor, his back turned to the three of you.

Dean took a step forward, reaching out a leg to softly push the man with his foot to see if that would trigger a response. But he just laid there. “Hit the lights.” He instructed, nodding his head to his brother.

Light flooded the place to make it easier to figure out what was going on. You turned off your flashlight and shoved it back in your pocket, knowing that it served no purpose now. You watched as Dean crouched down to the man, slowly placing it on his shoulder and pulling him backwards to see what was going on. You let out a muffled gasp, quickly pressing it toward your mouth when you caught sight of his blood soaked neck. Someone had slit his throat, ear to ear, making him bleed out on the carpet below. You noticed the matted and dried blood in his hair and clothes, all of it was making your heart pound faster in your chest in the unknown fear of what happened.

“Dean, I did this.” You heard Sam say, his voice was weak and small.

“We don’t know that.” You tried to keep everyone calm, denying the obvious truth seemed like the right thing to do right now. You looked over your shoulder at the younger man when he snapped at you.

“What else do you need, Y/N?” Sam questioned you, like you were just annoying him with your doubt that was getting on his last nerves. “How else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood?”

"I don’t know man, why don’t you tell me?” Dean snapped back at his brother, not liking the outburst that was directed to you. Everyone just stood there for a moment, the stress of everything was making the three of you act differently. Dean let out a quiet sigh, trying to remain the calm one here as he dug deeper for a reason why this happened. “Even if you did do this, I’m sure you had a reason—you know, self-defense, he was a bad son of a bitch—something.”

Sam ignored his brother’s logic of thinking as he began to observe the room to see if there was anything familiar. Dean began to pat down the dead body to see if he could find anything that would lead to figuring out who this John Doe was. But he was coming up clean. “He doesn’t have an I.D.” Dean muttered, dropping his hands back down on his knees to rest for a moment.

“I need your lock pick.” Sam said, eyes wandering toward a pair of closed sliding doors. You turned around to see what he was heading toward as his brother got back up into a standing position. He mumbled out a what, so the younger man repeated himself once more. “I need your lock pick.”

Dean reached inside his jacket and pulled out the set, handing it over to his brother, who grabbed it roughly. You watched as a few seconds later, the doors swinging open to reveal what this stranger was hiding. And it was something none of you were expecting to find. Everything that ranged from a collection of firearms, all nearly hung up on a wall, to detailed information about things that you knew about because of this life made you realize you’d stepped into something worse.

“Either this guy’s a unabomber—”

“Or a hunter.” Sam muttered, knowing all of the signs were right. He turned his head away from the room and stare at the three of you with a panicked expression. “Guys, I think I killed a hunter.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you knew all of you had landed in deep shit if none of you figured out what was going on. Hunters like you and the brothers meant this and could have been known to a few important people. And if they caught news of this gruesome act, you knew it would be like a witch hunt, figuring out who was involved, the questions would be saved for later. You looked around to see if there was any chance this guy was paranoid enough to have at least a few cameras around his house. A sense of relief flooded through you when you saw one hanging up in the top corner.

“Let’s find out.”

\+ + +

Leaning against the wooden desk, you wanted as Sam booted up the computer and found the files to the security cameras, finding the one for yesterday. Everyone sad in silence as the video began innocently enough as nothing for about a minute, but after that, you found yourself giving all full attention for the next few seconds that seemed like it was straight out of a horror movie. The homeowner was alive and well in the beginning of the video, but for a moment. You watched as he stumbled backwards into the room with someone following forward. The quality of the camera wasn’t great, but it was grainy enough for you all to see a fight break out between him and a strange.  
You bit your bottom lips when you easily recognized the person beating up the, now dead, man until he fell on his backside to the floor. In the video Sam was relentless; throwing punches and kicks to the man, who looked like he wasn’t giving much of a fight. You could feel your eyes beginning to linger on the man when you saw the people in the video come out of shot for a moment. Sam sat in the chair and stared at the computer screen, his forehead was scrunched up as the guilt of what he had done was creeping across his facial expression. And it only got worse when you focused your attention back to the video.

You watched as Sam dragged the man by the collar of his shirt before crouching down and put him into a headlock, pinning the man into place so what he did next was easier. Sam reached down from below and pulled out a knife, the exact same one he had found in that abandoned car, and slit the man’s throat clean. After that deed was done, he pushed the dead body off of him and go back up, making sure to wipe the blood on his shirt. Everyone stood silent for a long moment, trying to figure out if what they had saw was real.

\+ + +

You rubbed the cloth against every surface you could think that someone touched during your stay here. Dean was on the other side of the room following in your actions. Glancing up from the floor, you saw Sam still sitting at the desk, now reading a letter from someone. He was staring at the piece of paper with so much guilt as his jaw clenched breaking the younger man out of his deep thoughts. “How do you erase this, huh?” Dean questioned. “Sam, come on. We need your help.”

“I killed him, Dean.” Sam muttered, making him speak the terrible truth that he still couldn’t remember doing. You and his brother stopped your cleaning for a moment, you wrapped your fingers around the cloth as tight you could make it. “I just broke in and killed him.”

“Listen to me.” Dean said. He looked at his brother with a serious expression as you heard his tone became harder from what he was about to say next. “Whoever this guy is, he’s a hunter, which means other hunters are gonna look for his killer, which means we got to cover our tracks, okay?” With that being out in the open of the possible outcome of a few fellow hunters coming and stringing you up by your toes, and God knows doing what next, you focused your attention back to cleaning. But you could feel your attention slowly slip back into the conversation.

“His name was Steve Wandell.” Sam informed the both of you, throwing the letter to the desk as he continued speaking. “This was a letter from his daughter.”

Dean soaked the information in for a moment, but you could tell that isn’t what he was thinking about. His eyes lingered down to the floor when something caught his attention. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when you watched him bend down and pick up the computer desktop, reaching it up so it was now hovering over his head. But you and Sam jumped in fright when the older man smashed it to the ground with all his might. Dean didn’t stop there. He began stomping on the metal, making sure each little wire and piece of plastic was ruined. After he made sure that was taken care of, he threw a rag at his brother. “Wipe your prints. Then we go.”

\+ + +

All of you arrived back at the motel shortly after making sure that there was no possible trace that you or Sam were ever there. With the computer in bits and pieces, your only worry was that someone wasn’t smart enough to figure out how to get into the hard drive. But you had seen Dean smash that thing into bits and pieces. There was no way anything survived enough for those videos to exist. Which meant you could at least believe for a moment all of you were out in the clear for now before all of this was behind you once and for all.

Sam was the first one to step inside the room, he reached out a hand to flick on the light switch, allowing you to see in front of you after stepping behind him. You heard the motel door shut behind with a soft click with Dean being the last person to settle inside. Your body felt heavy and achy, probably from the amount of stress that only seemed to have been getting worse. These past few weeks with Sam missing, and now returning with evidence that he had committed a murder, was beginning to take a toll on your mental state. You had dealt with a lot of monsters, but you never thought that it would have hit so close to home. Out of anyone you knew, Sammy seemed like the last person to go this dark and do something like this.

“All right, we get a couple hours sleep, and then we put this place in our rearview mirror.” Dean instructed the both of you, heading over to one of the beds and put down the duffel bag he grabbed from the car. You noticed that Sam had wandered away, his back turned to his brother and you. “I know this is bad, okay? But you gotta snap out of it.” You waited for Sam to respond, but he just remained silent. “Sam, say something.”

“Just get some sleep and leave in the morning?” Sam repeated the instructions. It seemed easy enough to say it out loud, but he knew the dangerous consequences that still would linger on. “Murder, Dean—that’s what I did.”

“Maybe, okay?” You tried to keep denying the obvious truth, but you knew there were previous cases all of you had worked where someone else made it look like them. Sam just scoffed at your terrible ways of making the situation better. You quickly thought of a scapegoat that sounded right in your mind. “Hey, we don't—shapeshifter.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. You know it wasn’t. You saw the tape.” Sam said, acting as if you should have known better. You watched as he began pacing over to the bed that closer to the wall, his attitude still coming through. “There was no eye flare, no distortion.”

“But it wasn’t you, alright?” Dean stepped back into the argument, still trying to find ways of explaining what was happening. “Yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn’t you.”

“Well, I think it was.” Sam said, his tone dropping. You and his brother gave the man a look, not sure of what he was speaking about. He let out a sigh, walking over to the bed and taking a seat on the edge. “I think maybe more than you two know.”

Your brows furrowed, “What the hell does that mean?”

“For the last few weeks, I’ve been having,” Sam tried to explain what was going on, but he found himself stopping for a moment to swallow slightly before continuing on a bit more. “I’ve been having these feelings.”

“What feelings?” His brother asked, heading over to sit across from the man.

“Rage…hate…And I can’t stop it. It just gets worse.” Sam said, narrowing his eyesight on a spot in the carpet as he tried to explain what he had been going through. “Day by day, it gets worse.”

“You never told us this.” You mumbled, taking a step forward to the brothers.

Sam slowly lifted his gaze from the ground to look at you and Dean. “I didn’t want to scare you.” He whispered. You rolled your eyes at his excuse.

“Well, bang-up job on that.” Dean remarked, slapping a hand against his thigh before pushing himself up from the bed. You watched from the corner of your eye as he began to make his way across the room, but your full attention was on the other brother that was still sitting on the bed.

Sam twiddled around his thumbs for a moment, “Dean, the yellow-eyed demon—you know he has plans for me.” Dean stopped in his tracks, turning around to hear what his brother had to say next. “And we both know that he’d turned other children into killers before, too.”

“No one can control you but you.” Dean tried to give his brother sound advice, but Sam wasn’t listening.

“It sure doesn’t seem like that, Dean. It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I’m just becoming—” Sam tried to explain himself, but you narrowed your eyes at him. You had heard a few times before that this demon had deep connections to your family, even claiming that he had plans for you. But sometimes you wondered what the man sitting across from you was really turning into. Anyone that was involved with demon ended up either dead or psychos. But you weren’t going to let yourself or him go down that road.

“What?” You questioned the man.

“Who I’m meant to be.” Sam answered. You let out a quiet sigh as the older brother just threw his hands up in defeat, turning his attention to the duffel bag in front of him. But it didn’t last long when the other brother brought up a piece from the past. “You said it yourself once, Dean. I got to face up to who I am.”

“I didn’t mean this!” Dean snapped, hating the fact that his brother was twisting around his words.

“But it’s still true. You know that.” Sam argued, getting up from the bed as he began to walk forward to Dean. “Dad knew that, too. That’s why he told you if it ever came to this—”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean couldn’t help himself but say, cutting off his brother mid sentence.

You stood quiet in the background, feeling more like an outside on this personal conversation from what you were hearing. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as the conversation unfold. Never once have you heard Sam speak about wanting to go through with his father’s own plans, you thought that the younger man would have been heavily against it. But it apparently was a heavy conversation topic between the brothers, and Sam was ready to take a bullet.

“Dean, you promised him.” Sam whispered ever so quietly. “You promised me.”

“No.” Dean shot down the idea again, for what felt like the millionth time to him. There needed to be a plan, and the man always was the one to focus on a happy outcome, better than burning another family member’s corpse. “Listen to me. We’re gonna figure this out, okay? I mean, there’s got to be a way, right? 

"Yeah, there is.” Sam said. He reached down to the open duffel bag to grab the loaded pistol sitting on top. You could hear the safety click off as the man pushed the handle of the gun into Dean’s chest, who looked at the weapon for a moment before focus his eyes on his brother. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I don’t want to hurt you or Y/N.”

“You won’t.” Dean tried to reassure his brother. “Whatever this is, you can fight it.”

“No, I can’t, not forever.” Sam admitted, giving his brother a weak smile. His face scrunched up as he tried to keep his emotions in check as he waved around the gun once more. “Here. You got to do it.” 

When Dean just kept staring at the gun, as if he didn’t know what to do, Sam grabbed the man’s free hand and forced him to take a tight grip on the gun. He dropped his hands to his side and waited for Dean to aim. Your fingers dug into your sleeves as you watched the both of them just stare at one another for the longest time. Nobody really knew what the outcome could have been for this situation.

“You know, I’ve tried so hard to keep your safe.” Dean mumbled, staring down at the gun for a moment, as if he was really thinking about pulling the trigger. You heard Sam mumble something, silently waiting for this plan to fall through. But his brother stared at the weapon for a second longer before he shook his head. “I can’t. I’d rather die.”

Dean threw the gun back to the bed, leaving this conversation where it was. He let out a deep breath while walking away from his brother, needing a moment to collect his thoughts. You watched as Sam just stood there for a moment from what happened.

“No. You’ll live.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. You furrowed your eyebrows from what you had heard him say, something about it sounded off from what just went down. Sam bent down and grabbed the gun just as his brother turned around to face him, wondering if the younger man was going to try and do something drastic. But it wasn’t what you or Dean had thought from what Sam said next. “You’ll live to regret this.”

Before you could figure out what was going on, everything inside Sam seemed to have changed with what he had done next. He swung the handle of the gun straight down at his brother’s head, hard enough for the man to tumble down to the ground. Your eyes wandered to the unconscious Dean, who was making it quick to realize that you were in a bit of a bind. Nervously swallowing an outburst that might have landed you more in trouble than you wanted, you made yourself stare at the other brother.

“Sam,” You tired to keep your voice steady and your mind off the idea that he was holding a loaded gun that he, probably, wasn’t afraid to use. The once guilt ridden, almost suicidal, Sam wasn’t standing in front of you anymore. You went to ask him a question, but it ended up sounding harsher than you realized. “What the hell has gotten into you?” Sam’s lips twitched into a grin.

Your fight or flight instincts were beginning to kick in when you realized the situation was slowly unfolding could have dire consequences. The only option that you could think about was running to safety. You knew there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to be able to take down a man like Sam. He was stronger, smarter. And he taught you everything you knew to defend yourself in situations like this. The only option that you had was somehow finding a perfect escape route, or, by some miracle, wait for Dean came back around. But he was still lying on the floor, out cold. 

The door was too far away for you to make a run for it, but it was tempting when you saw the keys to the Impala still sitting on the table. You needed to get out of here and regroup, talking sense into the younger brother didn’t seem like it would do much. It was like he had changed from a guilt ridden man to a sociopath, the look in his eyes said it all. When you managed to get out of your thoughts, you found yourself staring at the man in front of you. He was wearing a type of grin that made your stomach feel with unease. This wasn’t Sam, it couldn’t be. 

“Come on, Y/N. It’s still me.” Sam knew you were staring at him, observing to figure out the reason behind for what he’d done to his brother. When he took a step forward, you managed to take a large one back just far enough to give yourself a safe distance. “You always could see me for who I am. And this is me. So, why don’t you just—” 

You took that as your cue to make a run for it, but you underestimated the man and his ability to catch on. Sam lunged forward and proved his point that he was more superior than you. A gasp of pain escaped your throat when you felt something wrap around your wrists, quickly yanking you forward, making you realize that Sam had you in his grip and could easily toss you around like a rag doll. You clenched your jaw as you tried to steady your nervous breathing, Sam’s lips twitched into another smile again. 

“Stay still. Okay? I just want to hang out with my best friend. When was the last time we actually spent time together that wasn’t for research?” Sam asked you, his tone seemed so calm. “Away from Dean, away from everything. I just want to go on a little adventure. And besides,” You tried your hardest to stay in place when you felt him tug your body toward the motel door. But just yanked you forward like a disobedient child, almost laughing from your pitiful attempts. “Besides, I need your help finding someone.”

\+ + +

It had been hours riding in the car, silence being your only weapon to use against the man sitting in the driver’s side. You crossed your arms over your chest and kept your attention averted on the road. Somewhere on the highway about fifty miles back was your cell phone, lying in little pieces after a certain someone decided to run it over with the car when he discovered you trying to send a text message to the oldest brother to give him a hint of where you could be. But Sam saw your fingers moving around suspiciously slow and then fast in your jacket pocket. Before you could even send the halfway done message, the car jerked to a stop and out went the flying phone.

You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a sharp sigh. The fright from what had happened the previous day was beginning to turn into anger. You couldn’t believe that he wanted to drag you all across the past few states to visit someone that neither one of you had seen since lying to her mother and allowing to work that case with a homicidal ghost that had a weird fetish for hair color, yours to be exact. Her mother was pissed and told a story about John and her own husband, using that as a warning for a terrible and very likely outcome from hunting. But Jo didn’t care. She ran off and decided to do her own thing, finding cases and kept quiet. Nobody knew where she was for the past few months. Except for you.

You tracked down the blonde after you began to grow worried, you forced her to contact you at least once every few weeks to make sure she was still alive. She needed someone on her side, and out of anyone that she knew, you were the best person. But you still didn’t understand why Sam was so set on the idea of talking to her himself. He didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms. All though, it seemed that he wanted to turn over a new leaf, as he said during your brief moment of questioning his motives. You didn’t fall for it.

The Impala pulled to a stop after driving to the back of some bar, and from it being in the middle kd the night, you could tell they were about to close up. You sat in your seat when you watched from the corner of your eye as Sam got himself out, pushing open the driver’s side door and stepping out. From the darkness, it was hard to see where he was going next as he began walking to the back of the car. But before you could think that you were in the clear, your head whipped to your own door when it opened. Sam leaned down and grabbed you by your upper arm, yanking you straight out of the seat and forcing you back to on your feet.

“Let’s go.” He mumbled, looking straight ahead as he began walking to the entrance of the bar. You ignored the remaining bodies that were exiting the bar, giving a weak smile when you could feel a few strangers give you a conceded look. Sam forced himself to drop your arm when he was beginning to grow suspicious, but by that time, the both of you were standing inside, away from everyone.

Jo had her back turned to the both of you, her attention on wiping down the bar top and cleaning a few remaining beer bottles. Sam cleared his throat, loud enough for the woman to hear that someone new had arrived. “Sorry.” She called out, her voice was tired and annoyed. “We’re closing up.”

“How about one for the road?” Sam asked, taking a step forward. You watched as Jo quickly recognized the voice, a small smile spread across your lips when she focused on you for a moment before back to Sam.

“Sam. You’re just about the last person that I’d expect to see.” She said, placing her hands on her hips. You had guessed Jo was proving the point about the younger man. She didn’t exactly like to hear the name Winchester, and seeing one in the flesh wasn’t the best part of her night.

“Well, I guess I’m full of surprises.” Sam took a few steps forward, a smirk spreading across his lips when he got what he wanted. You wanted to roll your eyes from the remark that came out from his mouth next. “So, can I get that beer?”

“Sure. One beer.” Jo mumbled, nodding her head before turning her attention to you for a moment. “You want anything, Y/N?”

“No, thank you. I’m good.” You mumbled. She nodded her head and went back to the bar to grab a cold beer. Sam observed you for a moment as you began to head for the bar, taking a seat before he followed in your actions. You watched as Jo came back a moment later, slapping down the bottle for the man to take. When you saw her head to a few other dirty tables, you stood up. “Uh, hey, do you need help cleaning up? I mean, it’s the least I could do.”

Jo looked over her shoulder and gave you a confused look. Your voice had sounded a bit different, more on edge than it should have been. You gave her a smile, making her believe that you were fine. “Sure. I don’t care.” She mumbled, grabbing a handful of glass bottles and cradling them in her arms. You looked over at Sam, who was staring at you with narrowing eyes, watching your every move as you began to walk to the table nearest to the bar. You began throwing scraps of paper into a dish, but found yourself freezing when you heard Jo speak up again. “So, Y/N, what kind of torture did Sam put you through to find me?”

“Well, uh, it’s kind of what we do, you know?” Sam was on his feet to speak up, dodging the woman’s sarcasm. 

“Speaking of ‘we,’ where’s Dean?” Jo asked, heading back over to the bar to throw the bottles into recycling and dishes into a tray. You opened your mouth to make up a lie as you followed in the woman’s actions, almost like your were her shadow. But Sam was quick again, as if you were going to spill. 

“Couldn’t make it.” Sam answered, watching the woman in a way that you weren’t quite comfortable with. You leaned yourself against the countertop, eyeing a few dirty dishes that sat ever so close to the edge.

“So, what are you doing here, Sam?” Jo couldn’t help herself but ask. She leaned herself against the bartop, an arm resting close enough to where the man was sitting. “I can understand if Y/N wanted to visit. But you and I didn’t exactly part on best of terms.”

“Right, um,” You stared at Sam for the longest time, waiting to hear what his excuse was for dragging you all the way here. He glanced down at his lap, a small smile spreading across his lips. “That’s why I’m here. I kinda wanted to see if we could square things, you know?”

Sam shrugged off his jacket and placed it on another stool, you watched as he used a free hand closer to the bartop and reached for his beer again. You narrowed your eyes on something that looked like a circle burned into his skin. Something about it seemed off putting to you. “That looks like it hurts.” You jumped into another conversation, nodding your head to the burn mark on his forearm.

“No…No, I, uh, had a run in with a hot stove.” Sam said, letting out a quiet chuckle as he dropped his and back down to his lap. “I told you that story, remember, Y/N?”

You licked your lips and nodded your head, pretending go along with the lie. Jo looked at you for a moment before turning her attention to Sam. “So, you said something about squaring things?” She asked, seeming to act like she wanted nothing better to do was get this conversation over with.

“Yeah, um,” Sam leaned in a bit closer as he started off again. “Look, I know how you feel about my dad. And I can’t say I blame you. He was obsessed, consumed with hunting. And he didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. And I guess that included your dad. But that was my father. That’s not me.”

You eyed the stack of dishes from the corner of your vision again; you pretend to brush a piece of hair out of your face, but your arm sent up a bit too fast, sending all of the plates go crashing to the floor. Sam jumped up from the unexpected distraction, sending his arm back down to the bar when Jo leaned over to see the damage you’d done. A frown stretched across her lips from what you’ve done. Sam threw daggers at you.

“Oh my God. I am so sorry!” You apologized, stepping away from the mess before you could get hurt. “I can clean it up. Do you have a broom somewhere, by chance?”

“Yeah. In the back.” She mumbled, obviously not happy from what you had done. You watched as she headed into the other side of the bar, disappearing from sight and leaving the younger Winchester alone with you.

You waited until you heard the slam of the door be your cue to figure out what was going on. Taking a few steps closer to the man, you stood Jo’s spot and leaned yourself close to Sam, making sure your tone was low enough for only him to hear.

“Sam, what the hell are we really doing here?” You couldn’t stand this anymore. “Dean is gonna be looking for you after what you did.” Sam’s response was nothing more than a smirk, acting as if everything you were saying was a joke. “Jesus. Do you even remember what you do to him? He was only trying to help you.”

You could hear Sam let out another chuckle, almost like it was forced out as he smiled again, showing off his dimples that almost would make him look innocent. But the way that he was acting was cynical, like he didn’t care about the harm he caused. “Boy,” He mumbled, his gaze hardening. “You’re really carrying a torch for him, aren’t you?” You let out a quiet scoff, not believing what just came out of his mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to head back to see what was taking Jo so long. But what Sam had said next was the final straw, it somehow got even more underneath your skin. “It’s too bad. 'Cause, see, Dean likes you, but…” You stopped in your tracks and looked over your shoulder at the man, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“What?” You asked the man, turning around now so you were facing him. Sam couldn’t help himself but smile at how you were acting. But it only made you more pissed. "Look, if you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

“Not in the way you’d want it.” Sam said, you raised your eyebrows at him. “I mean, maybe as kind of a little sister, but romance—that’s just out of the question. He,” You heard a chuckle escape his mouth as he continued on his thought. “He kind of thinks you’re a schoolgirl, you know?”

You stared at the younger man for the longest time, "Good to know. And let me ask you this one thing. When have I ever indicated that I liked, out of anyone this entire world, your older brother? Like you Winchester brothers are a real catch.” You remarked underneath your breath, walking back over to the bar to set something down. Sam’s grin slowly fell when he realized you weren’t fazed by it like he thought you would. "Whatever game you’re trying to play, Sammy, it’s not funny.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Y/N.” Sam tried to reassure you. You nodded your head, it was keeping everything inside of you not to punch the man straight in the jaw. “I’m telling you 'cause I care.”

“That’s real kind of you, Sam.” You said, giving him a sarcastic grin. “Because you have a screwed up way of showing it.”

“I mean it.” Sam said, his tone lowering. Your eyes drifted toward the countertop when you felt Sam’s hand draped over yours, his fingers wrapping around your wrist before you looked at him again. Just the look in his eye, the half smirk that creeped at the end of his lips. This really wasn’t him. “I care about you a lot.”

You tugged your arm slightly, but Sam’s grip tugged you back again. “I think you should go, Sam.” You warned him. “I’ll stay here with Jo for the night. Grab a motel and clear your mind.”

Sam stared at you with that look; his nose flared slightly as he swallowed, you waited for him to retaliate. But he didn’t. "Okay.” He said, giving up. Your arm pushed against the wood, but it was free from the man’s grip. You quickly crossed your arms over your chest and watched as Sam got up from his chair, giving you one last dirty glare before you saw him head toward the door.

You were at peace for a moment, giving you a chance to calm down from what happened. As you began to look for a phone to call Dean, trying your hardest to figure out a possible story, your body froze when you heard the floorboards creak from behind you. You swore you saw Sam leave, but you knew you weren’t going to just stand here like a sitting duck. The steps began to grow louder from behind, but you remained calm, almost acting like you didn’t know what was going on. But this time, you had a plan. You reached for the beer bottle and lifted it up, you were about to turn around and smack it against his head, but it seemed that Sam was one step ahead of you.

You could feel an arm quickly wrap around your body, pinning your arms into your place. Before you could warn the other girl about what was happening, Sam slapped another hand against your mouth to keep your scream muffled. Your breathing became ragged and deep when you realize this situation was about to turn for the worse.

“It didn’t have to be this way, Y/N.” You heard Sam whisper, his breath tickling the shell of your ear for a moment before he pulled your body down, roughly hitting your head against the wooden countertop. Your body went limp into his arms after the easy blow. He easily then lifted you up, shoving a few things out of the way before laying your body down. Moving a piece of hair out of your face, everything remained silent for a moment before he heard the door open again. His lips twitched into a smirk as his eyes flickered black. He almost forgot about Jo. “Maybe it did.”

\+ + +

How many times was it going to take of getting knocked in the head for the headache to stop feeling like someone was repeating the motion a few times over. You stirred back into consciousness to feel the throbbing in your brain and someone squeezing your wrists together. You shifted around slightly in your spot to realize you were pinned against one of the wooden pillars with your hands tied behind your back. The logic part of your brain was telling yourself to remain calm, there was no point of poking the beast and making Sam even more angry. You tried your hardest to tug at the restraints, but you should have known better. You were up against a Winchester, after all.

“What the hell’s going on, Sam?” You question the man, your voice coming out a bit slurred as you forced yourself to blink a few times to get yourself thinking straight. “What are you doing?”

“So,” You turned your head to the right when you heard Sam speak up for the first time. Making sure the rope was knotted well enough, he leaned over your shoulder and placed himself at an uncomfortable closeness. “What exactly did your mom tell you about how your dad died?”

“You’re not Sam.” You hissed at the man, denying him the truth he should have known already.

“Don’t be so sure about that. Answer the question.” He demanded again, but you turned your head away and remained silent. Sam took a step behind you, swinging himself slightly before he pulled up a chair and sat himself down next to you. “Come on. It’s me.” But the Sam that you knew wouldn’t have pulled out a hunting knife, dangling in your face like a threat if you weren’t going to talk. “You can tell me anything. You know that.” A scoff escaped your throat, but it quickly quieted down when you saw him lean the knife close to your cheek, making your skin brush against the newly sharpened blade from flinching. “Answer the question.”

You stared at Sam for the longest time, debating with yourself if you wanted to rehash old wounds. You knew it wasn’t Sam. But you couldn’t exactly put your finger on what was making him act this way. Sam seemed to have been growing impatient with your thinking as he ran the knife close to your loose hairs. “Fine.” You mumbled, giving into his requests.

“Fine.” He repeated after you, still running the knife through your hair.

“There’s not much to say, really. My dad had heart attack, he died in his sleep.“ You explained, trying to keep yourself composed. Sam stared at you with the most interest, soaking in everything you were telling him. "It was a quick and painful death. ”

“That’s just like Ella. Denying everything–like it was going to make everything go away.” Sam remarked with amusement. He pulled his hand away from your face so he could rest the elbow on his knee and cradle his head. “She dangled her husband like meat on a hook in front of that demon. All for what, eight lousy extra years? But did anyone ever tell you what really happened?”

“He died from a heart attack. The autopsy proved it, too.” You declared, knowing that amount of evidence still stood in your favor. But Sam shook his head.

“Your father was supposed to die of a heart attack. But that’s not what killed him, per say. She got impatient.” Sam said, his lips stretched into a toothy grin. The glint in his eye should have been enough to open your mouth and make him stop, but you couldn’t. “You see, while you were sleeping like a good girl, Ella was awake. She was like a kid on Christmas morning— waiting, anticipating for the moment for Andrew to kick the bucket. But she got impatient. It seemed that your father was a bit more…nosier than she liked. Thought it would wake you up and ruin everything.”

Sam got up from the stool, but you knew this was just the beginning of the story as he leaned himself against the wooden pillar, making sure to get close enough before he continued. “Ella couldn’t stand her husband pleading for his life, how annoying it was to hear him repeat wanting to see his daughter one more time. So, she grabbed a pillow and—”

You let out a scream of pain when you felt the sudden pressure of the knife running down the exposed skin of your upper chest. But Sam stopped you from making any noise that could echo, pressing his palm against your mouth to prove the gritty details of what your father had went through. “That’s why your mother was crying when you went to see what was going on. She wasn’t sad because Andrew was dead. It was more tears of joy…because it was finally over.” You felt his hand drop back down when you managed to get yourself under control of the pain that still stung when Sam pulled the knife away. “She put him out of his misery like a sick dog.”

Sam leaned down so he was now staring at you directly in the eye, wanting to see your reaction. You tried your hardest to remain unfazed from his words. But it was clear that you were getting upset from the tears that were beginning to prick your eyes and the ragged breaths. His lips stretched into a smirk, just enough for his dimples to pop out again. “Your mommy killed your daddy. And it’s all because of you.” He taunted you, singing his words in a childlike voice. “How does it feel to know you’re the reason why your parents are burning in Hell?”

“You’re not Sam.” You hissed at the man again, using your only hope that there was something else using the man to cause all of this chaos. “He wouldn’t do something like this.”

He ignored your attempt at trying to change the subject again. “I always wondered if Andrew knew what a crazy woman he was marrying, who she was willing to kill to have what she wanted.” Sam’s voice echoed from one side of your ear to another as he walked across the room. “Did you know the real reason why your mother sold her soul to have a child? I mean, no one really wants to be doomed to all damnation just to raise some bratty teenager. But Ella, that woman could make anyone do what she wanted. And boy, were you her perfect project.”

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask the man.

“Ella might have wanted you—but not in the way that you think. She wanted to relive her childhood through you. Be the perfect mother her own could never be. You were nothing more than her puppet.” Sam said, knowing his words were getting to you. Your jaw tightened in anger from what he said next. She manipulated you into the perfect daughter. But she couldn’t get herself love you. Nobody can love a mutt.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth.” You hissed at the man. But you immediately regretted the words that you had spat out from a sudden wash of confidence. Sam was still in charge here, and he wasn’t afraid to prove it. You tucked your lips and tried your hardest not to let out a yelp of pain when the man brought the knife up again and traced the wound on your chest, making sure to cut a bit deeper. “Okay, I’m sorry! You’re right!”

“Giving up so soon?” Sam mocked you, pretending to act upset when you cut the torture short. He got up from his chair and swung for the upper part of the wooden pillar, the blade sticking. You tried to control your breathing to a normal, steady beat from the adrenaline and pain that was running through your body. “I thought you were stronger than this, Y/N. Did I hit a nerve?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” You couldn’t help but ask, finally admitting defeat. You were in pain, your shirt was now ruined from blood and scared out of your mind. You watched as he leaned down slightly, making easier for what he was about to do next.

“Like daddy, like daughter. You’re bait. Open up.” You furrowed your eyebrows from what he meant, but you couldn’t ask when you felt someone like a cloth being shoved into your mouth. All your protests had came out as mumbled when you felt a gag being wrapped around tight, making it impossible to speak. “Atta girl.”

You knew your least bit of luck had officially run out when Sam’s plan since all of this started to take a full swing; your blood ran cold when you heard a surprise guest finally make their entrance. Dean’s voice rang inside your ears, calling out his brother’s name as a warning to stop from whatever he was thinking about doing next. But Sam didn’t seem fazed. You glanced up to see the younger man yank out the knife from the wood and placed it against your throat, making your body freeze up in place in fear of what he was willing to do next. But his little sadistic attitude was replaced with the same, on edge man that he’d been fooling you and his brother since arriving back together.

“I begged you to stop me, Dean!” Sam shouted at his brother. You were his best friend. Was he really going to kill you just to prove a point that might not have been true?

Dean’s finger was on the trigger with the gun pointed at his brother. He seemed at a hard crossroad of either choosing the safety of his brother or you. But he had a hunch before coming here. If he stalled enough, maybe he could make the outcome true. “Put the knife down, damn it.” He ordered at the younger man.

“I told you I can’t fight it! My head feels like it’s on fire, all right?” Sam tried to explain, his free hand pressed against his head to prove his point. “Dean, kill me, or I’m gonna kill her. Please. You’d be doing me a favor. Shoot me.“ He pressured his brother into doing the deed. But the older man just stood there, never breaking from his stance. You could feel yourself be just the slightest more at ease when Sam dropped the knife from your throat. “Shoot me!”

"No, Sammy. Come on.” Dean was almost pleading with his brother. You looked at the man across the room, wondering what he was going to do next. Let his childhood best friend or shoot his little brother like the man wanted. But you knew his decision when the man dropped his gun to his side, admitting defeat.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, Dean?” Sam questioned his brother, walking to the man. “Are you that scared of being alone that you’d let Y/N die?!”

Dean stood there for a moment, his head was pointed down to the ground, as if he was thinking about what to say. But from what you saw happen next, all the chaos from the past few days made sense. Sam wasn’t going crazy, he was possessed. Dean finally faced his brother, all though, he swung an arm around and flashed the canister of water at the man, watching as it sizzled on his skin into a fog of smoke. “That’s holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!”

The demon inside of the younger man growled in pain, the skin feeling like it was on fire. Its black eyes flickered open, threatening the hunter in front of him, but backed down when Dean splashed more water on the creature. Before either one of you could have stopped the monster from getting away, you watched as Sam made a quick escape. He found the nearest window that was big enough for him to crash through, escaping into the night, until one of you could track him down.

A moment later after witnessing what had taken place, the pressure from the rope was loosened after Dean found a knife to cut your binds. You quickly reached up and untied your gag, throwing the dirty dishrag to the ground. When you glanced over at the man, your facial expressions were hardening with anger from what had happened in the past few hours. “Goddamn it, go!” You hissed at the man, nodding your head to the window. Dean bolted for the escape, you pressed a and to your wound, before shouting, “Make sure to bring him back in one piece!”

You watched as the man disappeared into the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a moment. Suddenly you had a feeling like you were missing something. But you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. It took you a moment before you realized what it was. You quickly bolted for the back room to find out where Jo had been previously before all of this mess began. You swung open the door tot he back, your heart pounding inside your chest as you began to fear the worst outcome. But to your happiness, she was alive.

\+ + +

It had been a half an hour since the brothers began the wild goose chase to see who would come out this mess alive. You were growing antsy, your leg kept jumping up and down while Jo managed to clean your wound. It was deep, you probably were going to need stitches, she told you as she placed gause on your wound. You weren’t paying attention, your fingers wrapped around the knife when you heard the floors creak. You glanced over your shoulder shoulder to see that nobody was there. Pariona from what happened before was making you feel on edge. You couldn’t believe that you didn’t see it before. All the signs were there, but it never clicked together. Looking over at the clock again, you couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m going out there.” You declared, getting yourself up to a standing position. But you found yourself dropping down a hand to the table when the pain of moving too quickly made the medical tape rip off your skin. You glanced up to see that Jo was staring at you, she shook her head no.

“Didn’t you hear me? You need to take it easy, Y/N.” Jo warned you about possible infections or tearing the wound deeper, but you weren’t listening. When she realized you were too focused on getting your jacket on as you worked through our pain, she let out a quiet sigh. “You’re not going out there alone. I’m coming with you.”

You opened your mouth to lecture the woman of how dangerous it was, you were dealing with a demon, after all. But this woman had been on her own for the past few months, dealing with cases and living on her own. And besides, Sam was probably long gone or sedated enough to figure out the next plan of action. “Okay. Fine.” You mumbled, throwing your hands up. “You have a cell phone, right?” Jo furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but she nodded her head.

\+ + +

You and Jo walked in sync down the pier, your shoes echoing off the wooden floorboards as you flashed the light around into the night to see if you could find anyone familiar hiding out. Jo was in charge of calling Dean’s cell phone, hoping you could find the man, standing around somewhere safe. The both of you were walking deeper into the place, still not finding any evidence that they were still here. You were about to wander the worst, but you stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar ringtone echo through the night. Putting a hand up, you stopped the woman from making any noise for the moment. Walking to the edge, you leaned in closer to hear it get louder.

“Did you hear that?” You whisper, your eyes wandering down to see where it was coming from. Your flashlight traced every part of the place, but when you took a step closer to the water below, you had found what you were looking for. Dean was lying on the bottom of the pier, not responding when you shouted his name out in fear. “Oh my, God. Dean!”

You quickly raced down the edge of the wooden bridge, jumping down to the bottom of where the man was, hearing another pair of footsteps following in your actions. Jo was right behind you as the both of you headed over to the man’s side. You crouched down and push him slightly and tried your hardest to move his body so he was no lying on his back. You let out a sigh of relief when he came back into consciousness, coughing out whatever water remained in his lungs.

From his appearance, he was soaking wet and covered in dirt, probably from dragging himself out of the lake. His arm went up to his shoulder after you and Jo managed to get the man up into a sitting position. You scolded him for moving too fast, making him slow down and catch his breath for a moment after whatever happened to him.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked you, managing to speak between deep breaths.

“I don’t know. We’ve been looking for you. Come on. You have to get up.” You said to the man, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Jo, make sure you have a good grip. Everyone stand up on the count of three. Okay?”

After counting down, you and Jo managed to lift up a man that must have been your size put together. It was a bit of a rocky start when the three of you began to walk up the ramp, Dean let out a groan of pain when his knees buckled from the throbbing shoulder, but you shushed him. All of you endured the long walk back to the bar to clean up his own wounds before they could get infected. You dropped the man down into a seat and let out a sigh of relief, a hand resting on your own wounds that were beginning to feel like they were on fire.

“Okay. Let’s find out the damage, shall we?” You asked the man, giving him a warning for what you were about to do next. You made him take off his jacket to figure out what you were dealing with. He swore underneath his breath and groaned whenever he was forced to move his arm, but you ignored it. You threw his jacket over a chair to let it dry before you discarded your own. You pulled up his shirt sleeve to see that his wound look like he was shot. “Damn it, Dean. You’re pretty friggin’ lucky the bullet didn’t hit an important vessels. You could have bled out and died.“

"Well, I didn’t.” Dean grumbled in annoyance, obviously not happy with your lectures. “And besides, when have you become an expert on bullet wounds?”

You ignored him, nodding a head at Jo for her to come forward. “Okay I’m gonna need you to get me a few things. Can you grab that first aid kit again, a pair of tweezers, a shot glass. Oh—and the strongest booze you’ve got in this joint.”

Jo nodded her head and rushed away from the both of you in order to grab the supplies. You reached for the knife you’d been holding since the brothers previously left for protection if the demon decided to come back. You took it to Dean’s shirt and ripped the sleeve straight up. It was better to get the dirty fabric away from the wound so you didn’t have to worry about wiping away anymore grime and blood. You glanced up from your own after a long period of silence to see what was causing Dean to be so quiet. His eyes kept flickering down to your chest. You knew he was going to ask about what happened, so you changed the subject.

“After the last incident.” You answered his previous question. Dean looked at you with a confused expression, not sure what you were hinting about. “You were doing a solo case just a few hours from where I lived. I don’t know what you were hunting, but…you knocked on my door at three in the morning, bloody and bruised. You were shot in the arm and I was scared out of my mind. But you talked me through it. I think you were more calm about their situation than me. And after that, I spent a few days reading up on all sorts of injuries and what to do. You know, just in case.”

“All right. Here we go.” You looked over your shoulder when you heard Jo come back, her arms full of supplies of what you needed. You grabbed a few things and set them down on the table, you made sure you had everything before all set up before getting started on this. You opened up the first aid kit and grabbed a package of gauze, ripping open the package and poured a decent amount of peroxide on it before you placed it on Dean’s wound, wiping away the drying blood and dirt. He hissed in pain, Jo rolled her eyes and handed over the glass bottle of liquor he was going to need in a moment. “Drink up, baby.”

Dean tossed a glare at the woman, but he took a swing to calm his nerves as you grabbed the shot glass and poured some more peroxide into it so you could sanitize the tweezers. “Okay, here comes the painful part. You ready?” You asked the man, placing a hand on his forearm, your other arm hovering over his wound as your warning before you started digging around in his wound. He gripped the edge of the table and nodded his head.

You got to work after his approval, spending at least ten minutes digging deeper and deeper into his wound as you struggled to find where the bullet had landed. You ignored his grunts and groans from feeling a foreign object trying to find another. You had to at least shush him a handful of times after he began to swear more and more. He grabbed the bottle again and took another swing, downing almost a few mouthfuls before slamming it back down, shaking the table.

“Alright, almost there.” You whispered, finding what you had been looking for. As you squeezed onto the bullet, your lips twitched into a smirk. Dean didn’t seem to care for your victory; his fingers wrapped around the table tighter as his other fist began to clench even more. “All right. Got it. I got it.” You declared, slowly yanking out the tweezers with the bullet and dropped it into the glass.

You reached over the table to grab some more gauze and medical tape to cover up the man’s wound. Dean looked down to inspect your work. “God, you’re a butcher.” He mumbled underneath his breath. You rolled your eyes and pressed the gauze down in his wound, putting enough pressure to make him wince. You put the first piece of tape down, but it seemed you weren’t going fast enough. “All right, are we almost done here?”

“Jesus. Would you give me two minutes to patch you up?” You scolded the man, who was acting like a child. “We can’t help Sam if you’re too busy bleeding to death.” You ripped off another piece of tape and placed it on as Dean reached for the bottle to take another swing. You looked up at the man for a moment, a question beginning to burn in the back of your mind. “So, how did you know that he was possessed? He didn’t show any of the…psychical signs when I was with him.”

Dean winced when you accidentally pushed a bit harder against his skin, you mumbled an apology. “I didn’t. I just knew that it couldn’t have been him.” He admitted, dropping his gaze to the table. You knew what he was hinting about. The both of you knew the younger man wouldn’t have gone dark like the other children, he couldn’t.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah.”

You placed another piece of tape on his wound and pulled down on the cloth, making sure it was smoothed over before you continued your work. “I know demons lie, and call me stupid for asking this, but,” You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders. You glanced up to see that he was looking at you, wondering what you were going to ask him. “Do they ever tell the truth, too?”

“Uh…Yeah, sometimes, I guess, especially if they know it’ll mess with your head.” Dean tried to explain. He reached for the bottle again to take another sip of the alcohol. “Why do you ask?”

You wanted to tell him everything the demon had taunted you. The image of your mother leaning over your father’s body as he struggled with the heart attack, pressing a pillow to his face flashed in your mind for a moment. How the demon told you about the manipulation. You shook your head, forcing the smallest smile as you continued working. “Nothing. I was just curious.”

“So,” You heard Jo come back from wherever she must have been, seeming to notice that it was safe enough to come back after you had successfully nursed Dean’s wound into rehabilitation. “Do you have any idea where Sam’s headed to next?”

“He’s been going after the nearest hunters,” Dean explained what he knew to the both of you. “So, the closest what I know is in South Dakota.” You let out a sigh of frustration when you realized who the demon’s next target was going to be, Bobby. You declared that you were done, getting up from the chair and wiped your hands from any remaining dirt.

“Okay, good.” Jo said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Let’s go.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave the woman a glare from what she was thinking “You’re not coming, Jo.”

“The hell I’m not. I’m a part of this now.” Jo declared. You snorted at her thought.

“It’s bad enough I have to take Y/N along, But I need her. And I can’t say it more plain than this—you try and follow us, and I’ll tie you to that post.” He threatened the younger woman. “This is my fight. I’m not getting your blood on my hands. That’s just how it’s gonna be.”

You ignored her daggers that she was throwing at you when you ignored her previous attempts. You grabbed your jacket from the chair and put it on, taking a few steps to the door before you heard her speak up again. “Wait. Here.” She bent down and grabbed a bottle of pills from the table, tossing it over to you before you caught them. “Take these. They’ll help with the pain.”

You examined the bottle for a moment before glancing back up at the woman. “Thank you, Jo. For everything.” You said, giving her a smile. “I’ll call you later, okay?” She stood there silent, but weakly nodded her head. You looked at her one more time before you turned your body around on your heels and followed behind the oldest Winchester, hoping that you were faster than this demon.

\+ + +

You and Dean arrived at Bobby’s just after morning arrived, the nightmare of seeing someone dead or injured crossed your mind, but to your surprise, everything seemed to have been under control. It seemed that Bobby had a few methods to testing his guests when they arrived unannounced, slipping some holy water into Sam’s beer and waited to see if the younger man passed. Of course, you knew he failed miserably. Never underestimate the intelligence of a hunter.

You crossed your arms over your chest and overlooked the sight of Sam tied up to a chair and underneath the devil’s trap. One thing that kept the demon was doing any harm damage, for what moments it had left inside the man. You and the other two men waited a few moments to see when the younger man was going to stir awake and get this exorcism started. But it seemed that Dean was getting impatient, reaching out a hand to slap across his brother’s face, which seemed to have done the trick. Sam let out a groan, obviously feeling the previous affects of being knocked out, and the impolite wake up wasn’t helping much, either.

When the man came to his sense and found out who was standing right across from him, a smirk spread across his lips, like this little chair and rope he was tied to wasn’t going to hold him for long. But your eyes trailed up to the devil’s trap again, his gaze slowly lingered upward to see what you were staring at. You focused your attention back on the demon after a moment, allowing arrogant smile of your own across your lips. This was going to be sweet, sweet revenge for what it put you through earlier.

“Dean. Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn’t it? Like a cockroach.” The demon set its attention on the man standing in front of him, deciding what buttons he could push to get a response. “And Y/N. Look what the cat’s dragged in. You just keep coming back.”

“How about I smack that smart-ass right out of your mouth?” Dean remarked, obviously finding the demon’s humor not the least bit funny.

“Careful now.” The demon warned, knowing the host was Sam, the one person you wanted out of this mess alive. “Wouldn’t want to bruise this fine packaging.”

“Oh, don’t worry. This isn’t gonna hurt Sam much. You, on the hand…” You said, reaching down to grab a bucket full of holy water. Without a warning, you splashed it on the demon, watching as it began to burn at the skin, causing a scream of pain to erupt from the painful sensation tingling on the skin. “Do you feel like talking now, you stupid son of a bitch?”

“Sam’s still my meat puppet.” The demon hissed, working through the pain to make an empty threat that you knew was going to be just a lie in the next few seconds to come. “I’ll make him bite off his tongue.”

“No, you won’t be in him long enough.” Dean said, knowing what was about to happen next. He turned his head to look at Bobby, nodding his head for the exorcism to begin. You heard familiar words of Latin begin to echo through the room, the demon glared over at the two of you from the sudden change in its plans. Soon enough, it would be back in Hell where it belonged. “See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up, you’re not getting Sam, you understand me?” Dean leaned down to stare at the demon, watching as the effects of the ritual were beginning to work from the grunts and spasms. “Cause I’m gonna kill every one of you first.”

Everything seemed to have been going according to plan; Bobby continued on with the exorcism, the demon seemed to have been responding from the pain it was going through. But soon the grunts and growls turned into something none of you were expecting to hear from the demon. Sam’s neck cranked backwards as he let out a throaty laugh, the kind of laugh that made a bad shiver run down your spine. He let out a few breaths to catch his breath before looking at you and Dean, a grin spreading across his lips.

“You really think that’s what this is about? I don’t give a rat’s ass about the master plan.” The demon said. But neither one were going to let that little line stop you from continuing with this exorcism. With a nod of a head, Bobby began to continue on, but after a few moments, nothing seemed to have been happening. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the demon smirked to itself. "Oops. Doesn’t seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks.”

The demon bent his head down and began to mumble words of unfamiliar Latin. You and Dean looked over at the older hunter to see if he knew what was going on, but the panicked expression beginning to stretch across his face wasn’t a good sign. And if that wasn’t enough to know that things were going south, you stumbled backwards slightly when the fire going from behind suddenly grew larger for a moment. The lights began to flicker rapidly as a gust of wind began to make all sorts of papers and loose hairs fly around, all before you could feel the ground beneath your feet like an earthquake shaking the entire house.

“This isn’t going like I pictured. What’s going on, Bobby?” Dean asked the older man, knowing that there was something very strange happening. You took a step forward to the demon, suddenly having a feeling for what you had saw earlier might have been the cause of what was going on. You pushed the sleeve of Sam’s shirt up, showing off the burned symbol to the older man.

“It’s a binding link!” Bobby shouted, trying to speak through the commotion that was happening all around you. “It’s like a lock. It’s locked itself inside Sam’s body.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know!”

Your jaw tightened from the lack of answers that weren’t helping the situation that was only getting worse. When you took a step back from the demon, you knew everything had gotten toward its climax when you heard cracking from above ring inside your ears. You glanced up at the ceiling, your face fell into a panicked expression at the sight of the devil’s trap broken in a few different places. As you focused your attention back on Sam again, the demon was staring at you with those inky black eyes, a smirk spread across his lips. “There. That’s better.”

In just a blink of eye you could feel some sort of force pushing you across the room until your backside roughly collided with the wooden floors. The breath was knocked out of you from the demon tossing you around like a puppet. You laid still for a moment before you made yourself lift up your head just enough to see what was going on. With blurry vision from the blow to the back of your head, Bobby had been thrown across the opposite side of the wall as Dean was toppled against the other, groaning in pain from the pressure on his bullet wound. The demon broke out from his bonds, the thick rope snapping like it was a piece of loose thread. Your eyesight became normal again to discover that the demon has its attention locked on you.

Without thinking more about a possible plan, your attention shifted toward the flask of holy water that Dean must have dropped. You stumbled to your knees, working through the pain shooting through your chest to grab that silver container. Your fingers reached out to be just inches away from your grasp, but your body was pinned to the floor again when you felt a foot press down against your upper back side, making you fall to the ground in defeat. A stifled groan of pain managed to escape your lips before you forced them shut, knowing you weren’t going to give the demon satisfaction of hearing you suffer.

Another jolt of pain washed over your body when you felt the foot lift off your body just for a moment so he could sneak it underneath, putting just enough pressure on your wound again to make you turn over on your backside. You tried to control your breathing that was beginning to come out in heavy pants, your eyes locked on Sam’s towering body. His lips twitched into a smirk as he observed you for a moment before dropping down to a crouch. Before you realized, you could feel his hands wrap around your shirt, squeezing the fabric into a tight fist and pulled your upper body into a sitting position and forced to make eye contact with him.

“Take a good, hard look at this, Y/N.” The demon’s voice lowered just enough for his words to be only heard by you. “You can pretend, act all innocent and sweet around everyone. But deep, deep down—you know you’re looking at your future. I told you before, Y/N. You’re not a real girl.” Your mouth gaped open at who realized was possessing Sam, the exact same demon that you had previously set to Hell, the infamous Meg. The end of Sam’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Demons talk, and boy, you should hear what they say about you and little Sammy. Hell is gonna be a great place for you when I drag you down there myself.”

You could see from the corner of your eye as Dean tried his hardest to work through the pain, but the demon turned its attention back to the man. “But you know when people want to describe the worst possible thing, they say it’s like Hell?” The demon dropped you down to the ground, stalking its way to the man. He crouched down and threw the first punch at the oldest Winchester. He wasn’t done yet as he grabbed the man by the collar and yanked him back up, throwing yet another punch.

“Well, there’s a reason for that. Hell is like, uh…” The demon thought about it for a few moments, but another punch was thrown again. “Well, it’s like Hell, even for demons. It’s a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear.” About three more punches were placed at Dean’s jaw and nose, making a trickle of blood begin to pour down. The demon steaded the man’s head for a moment to make the big reveal. “And you sent me back there.”

“Meg.” Dean mumbled out the demon’s name, hatred dripping in his voice.

“No…not anymore. Now I’m Sam.” The demon taunted the idea before sending the roughest punch straight at the man’s jaw, who was beginning to feel the pain settle in. But it was only the start. A palm went down on Dean’s shoulder, Sam’s fingers wrapping around tightly before he squeezed the wound with forceful pressure, making the man below him groan from the pain. “By the way…I saw your dad down there. He says ‘howdy.’”

The demon seemed to have been distracted enough to not notice you sneak away from your spot. You moved as slow as you could and tried not to make any noise as you slithered away to the fireplace. “All that I had to hold on to was that I would climb out one day and that I was gonna torture you, nice and slow, like pulling the wings off an insect.” The demon continued to taunt the man, but this time, it was going toward the emotional barriers. “But whatever I do to you, it’s nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You’re worthless. You couldn’t save your dad, and deep, down, you know you can’t save your brother.”

You leaned down to grab the iron rod that must have fallen into the fireplace from the disturbance. Your fingers wrapped around the warm edges and lifted it from the flames, seeing the tip burning a bright orange. You began to stalk toward the demon without it knowing. “They’d have been better off without you.” Was the last thing you heard the demon say, knowing that it was the right blend of words to get the oldest Winchester feeling helpless. As you watched Sam’s arm went up to take one more swing at the man, you were faster. A free hand wrapping around the man’s wrist, you squeezed your nails into his skin causing his attention to shift on you.

“If I ever see you again, bitch, I’m gonna torture you in ways that will make you wish you were in Hell.” You growled. And before the monster could retaliate, you swung up the rod and pressed the burning tip to the man’s skin, destroying the previous mark on his skin. You heard a loud growl escape Sam’s throat before a similar cloud of black smoke escaped, disappearing into the fireplace chimney.

Sam’s body dropped to the ground in exhaustion, making him unconscious for a few moments as the three of you stared at the man, wondering what was going to happen next. His eyelids flew open and a gasp of breath escaped his throat when he came to his senses after all this week. Sam sat still for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on from the peculiar looks that all of you were giving him. “What did I miss?” He innocently asked, seeming to have been back to his normal self.

A hand went to rest on your face in annoyance when you saw the oldest Winchester take his revenge. He worked through the pain and got himself up into a decent seating position, all so he could throw a punch straight at his little brother, the hardest one that he could muster up. The brothers let out mumbled groans of pain as they toppled over. You and Bobby looked at one another for a moment, shaking your heads in disapproval.

With everything calmed down to a minimum, you and the brothers evaluated the battle wounds from the latest fight. You repatched yourself and Dean up after what had happened. Sam’s burn had been properly cleaned and Dean’s bloody mess called his face was promptly cleaned, ignoring his grunts and mumbles as you put ointment on them so they wouldn’t get infected. A compressor was now pressed against his face to get the swelling in his cheek and upper lip to a minimum, but it dropped when his little brother spoke up again.

“By the way, you really look like crap, Dean.” Sam remarked, knowing it must have been his small payback from the previous punch that could have been counted unnecessary .

“Yeah, right back at you.” Dean mumbled.

You shushed them both like little children as you forced Dean to press the compact back to his face, at least something to keep him quiet for the moment. As you turned around in your spot, you saw someone familiar come into the room. Just the look on his face made you feel a bit uneasy to wonder what it was. “What is it, Bobby?” You asked.

“You kids ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?” Bobby threw out a name that made your body stiffen in discomfort.

“Why do you ask?” Dean asked, pretending to sound curious.

“Just heard from a friend, Wandell’s dead–murdered in his own house.” Bobby explained the situation, looking at the three of you. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything.”

“No, sir. Never heard of the guy.” Dean lied right through his teeth. You heard the younger brother mumble the man’s name, you threw him a glare to shut his mouth. If there was a way to sneak away from this crime, you weren’t going to let the man’s conscious win.

“Good. Keep it that way. Wandell’s buddies are looking for someone or something to string up. They’re not gonna slow down and listen to reason. You understand what I’m saying?” Bobby asked all of you. A few pissed off hunters that knew how to hide a dead body without being caught, and an itch to kill was the clear message you were getting. All of you nodded.

“We better hit the road,” Dean said, changing the subject as he got himself out of his chair as he looked over at his brother. “If, uh, you can remember where we parked the car.”

"Here. Take these.” Bobby said, reaching out a hand to drop something inside your awaiting palm. You saw that it was a small, circular pendant with some sort of design that you couldn’t quite make out in the lack of decent light.

“What are they?” Sam asked, observing the object for a moment.

“Charms. They’ll fend off possession.” Bobby said. “That demon’s still out there. This will stop it from getting back up in you.”

“That sounds vaguely dirty,” Dean couldn’t help himself but remark causing you and Sam to involuntary chuckle. “But, uh, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. But you kids be careful, now.” Bobby said. You nodded your head, hearing Sam return the same good will to the man. Your fingers wrapped around the trinket tighter and began heading to the front door. Dean stopped in his tracks when he realized he was about to leave with the cold compressor. He threw it toward the man that was still standing across the room, making sure to give one more reassuring smile before heading out the door.

Peace at last, you thought to yourself. You sat in the backseat of the Impala with a little less stress, hearing the sounds of a familiar song that you’d heard a few other times before. Nobody really had discussed what had happened during the last few days. Part of you would have been happy to let the rest of the ride in nothing more than silence. But you were curious to know how the younger Winchester was feeling, he’d been pretty hush about everything. As you leaned in closer to the front seat, you examined his facial features to see what he was thinking.

“You okay?” You asked the man, waiting for him to respond. “Sam?”

“Is that you in there?” Dean tried to be funny, breaking the small bit of growing tension.

Sam gave his brother a dirty look from the comment, keeping silent for a moment before admitting what he had gone through these past few days. “I was awake for most of it, guys. I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands. I saw the light go out in his eyes.”

“It must have been awful.” Dean mumbled out a response, seeming to know to how properly respond to a confession like that.

“That’s not my point.” Sam said. “I almost carved up Y/N, too. But no matter what I did, you wouldn’t shoot.”

“It was the right move, Sam.” You said, trying to defend the previous actions taken. “It wasn’t you.”

“Yeah, this time.” Sam mumbled, his tone becoming a bit harder. “What about next time?”

Dean focused his attention back on the road for a moment, knowing the subtle point his little brother was trying to make. “Sam, when Dad told me that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn’t save you. Now, it it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna save you.”

The three of you fell back into another moment of silence after that moment was wrapped up with a promise. But you could feel your attention slowly slip away from passing scenery toward the older man sitting in the driver’s seat again. Your eyebrows furrowed when Dean began to chuckle, like he was thinking of something funny.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Dean, what?”

"Dude,” Dean turned his attention toward his little brother, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You, like, full-on, had a girl inside of you for, like, a whole week.” You rolled your eyes at the man’s comment, but it seemed funny enough for the younger brother to have a good laugh about it himself. “That’s pretty naughty.” An unwanted chuckle came out from your mouth, causing his smile to grow wider, but you retaliated with a comment.

“God, you’re such a perv.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it.”

“Bite me, Winchester.”


	15. Tall Tales.

You sank deeper into the loveseat with your feet on the edge of the coffee table, the only clear spot and away from all of the library books Sam had spread around here and part of the couch you’d been crashing on for a few days. Your eyes dropped down to your laptop, ignoring the rising tension between the brothers. This hunt had been nothing more than a cruel joke; the first couple of days seemed to have been only the tip of the iceberg. Your motel room was somewhat decent, nothing extraordinary. But then you began to notice a new breed of mold growing in between the cracks of the tiles each time you took a shower. And a little friend hiding in your pillowcase after you felt something strange crawling around. Come to find out, you’ve been sleeping with a cute little cockroach. And that was the end of your stay in that wonderful room. Of course, that’s when another problem had to arise.

After arguing with the motel manager for a room room, he’d told you that there wasn’t another one available for a while. He was probably more pissed off from the fact that you’d insulted his rooms a, quote, “disgusting piece of crap that wasn’t fit for human living.” A little harsh. And he was making you eat those words because you were now calling home to a smelly couch that was growing more with books and other junk the brothers had thrown on, despite your repeated vocal commands. But after the past few days of working on this case, and things beginning to grow more weirder, you were wondering if their own problems and pointing the finger at each other for the cause of them almost forgetting that you were here in the room.

Sam shifted his head from one palm to another, his free hand roughly flipped the page of some dusty hard covered book to find information on whatever all of you were hunting. His facial expressions were cold and full of frustration. Your eyes trailed up from your laptop to see what could have been making him so angry. Dean was sitting on one of the unmade beds, shoving some fast food chili fries into his mouth as he read some discarded magazine he found on arrival, not seeming to notice his loud chewing noises and mumbled grunts of approval from the food he thought was delicious were annoying his brother. All while soft music played from the radio, the noise didn’t seem to bother you, it seemed better than the arguing that had been happening since this morning.

“Dude, you mind not eat those on my bed?” Sam started in again for the first time this afternoon, making you roll your eyes so far back in your head. You dropped your attention back to your laptop, continuing on with your work, hoping that you could block out this slow rising argument.

“No, I don’t mind.” Dean commented, reaching down to grab another small pinch of fries and shoving them into his mouth. Licking his thumb clean, he decided to continue getting on his little brother’s nerves. “How’s the research going?”

“How you know how it’s going? Slow.” Sam said, shutting the book rather loudly to prove his point. “You know how it would go a heck of alot faster? If I had my computer.” His voice rose, hoping that would cast some guilt of what had happened yesterday, but all his brother did was give a grin with his cheeks puffed out from the mouth full of food that still needed to be swallowed. Sam rolled his eyes in anger, reaching out a hand for another book to read as he dropped that one argument when he realized it wasn’t going anywhere. The both of the brothers had fallen into about a half minute worth of silence, making your body relax just the slightest. But you cringed when you heard Sam shout, “Can you turn that down, please?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Dean mumbled, reaching out a hand to turn up of the volume louder.

Sam didn’t seem to have found that course of action even the slightest bit funny, he just gave his brother the dirtiest look, all though the man didn’t seem to even notice from the lack of attention he was giving. “You know what? Maybe you should go somewhere for a while, huh?”

That seemed to have been enough for his brother to reach out his hand again to shut the music off completely. “Hey, I’d love that. It’s a great idea.” Dean replied in a sarcastic tone to prove his point of what happened to his Baby earlier today. “Unfortunately, my car’s all screwed to hell.”

“I’d told you I had nothing to do—”

“Jesus Christ. Shut the hell up!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, slamming your laptop shut. You breathed loudly through your nose, shaking your head in disapproval from how childish the brothers were acting. But a sudden knocking on the motel door caused them to stiffen from the unexpected visitor. Rolling your eyes again, you shoved a few books out of the way with your feet before setting down your computer. You knew who it was. Luckily he had arrived just in time. Getting up from the seat, you headed for the door and mumbling out, “And this is why I’m happy to be an only child.”

You headed to the door, making sure to check through the peephole just to be safe. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you realized it was the person you were hoping for. You took a step back and opened up the door, a smile growing on your lips to greet the man you had seen not that long ago. “Hey, Bobby.” You said with genuine happiness to see someone new. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

"Hey, guys.” Bobby said, giving all of you a smile when he heard the other two brothers give the man a welcome. You watched as Dean got up from the bed and Sam headed over to where you were standing, giving the older man a pat on the shoulder before walking to the other side of the room. “It’s good to see you again so soon.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks for coming.” Sam said, gesturing for the man to head toward the beds as he took a larger step to his brother, who had tossed him a dirty look just because of him getting in his personal space. “Come on in.”

Bobby observed the outcome of two grown men living in a motel room for the past week; empty beer bottles sat on the counter and fast food containers that were either harvesting moldy food or needed to be thrown out. Open books were spread from the kitchen table all the way toward the couch. You mentally took a note of making the brothers clean this place up later tonight before you had gotten ants, or worse, some other insect you would be forced to wake up next to.

“Thank God you’re here.” Dean mumbled with relief, giving the man a quick handshake.

“So, um, what didn’t you want to talk to me on the phone about?” Bobby curiously asked.

You had called him on a whim after becoming tired of the bad luck that seemed to have been following you and the brothers. And since that had been each other’s throats, you thought things could have been smoothed over from the only hunter you knew that would settle this dispute. All while figuring out what you were hunting.

“It’s this job we’re working. We,” You explained, your fingers ringling together as a soft chuckle escaped your throat from what had been happening. “We weren’t sure you’d believe us.”

“Well, I can believe a lot.” Bobby said, you nodded your head in agreement.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sam said, knowing well enough the hunter had seen and killed things that none of you had even experienced yourselves yet. “It’s just we’ve never seen anything like it. Not even close. We thought we could use some fresh eyes.”

"Why don’t you begin at the beginning?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah. Um, all right, please.” Sam mumbled, gesturing toward the bed for the older man to take a seat. Bobby looked over to see an empty container of some food was still sitting on the edge, your nose crinkled as he tossed it off to the side. Sam turned around the chair you were previously sitting on so he could take a seat himself, getting ready to tell his side of the story. “It all started when we caught wind of an obit. "See, a professor took a nose dive from a fourth-story window, only there’s a campus legend that the building’s haunted. So we posed as reporters from the local paper.”

 

Sam’s Point of View:

Rock music echoed through the college campus bar that was crawling with students, enjoying a drink or two from the stresses of finals and papers. The sight was almost nostalgic toward Sam from the previous life he had given up to be here, but he knew there was work to be done. Two juniors were settled at the table across you and him, getting ready to tell the story of the professor that had committed suicide from his office. He settled down the tape recorder, nodding his head for the woman named Jen to continue on with her story, who had been nursing a fruity red drink for the past ten minutes. But her friend, Curtis who’d been on his second beer, cut her off to answer the opening question he’d asked the both of them. 

“Yeah, we both had the professor for ‘Ethics and Morality.’” Curtis said, swishing around his beer before bringing it to his lips to take a large sip of the drink.

“So, why do you think he did it?” Sam asked with curiosity.

“Who knows? He was tenured, wife and kids. His book was like a really big deal.” Jen said, theorizing reasons for this sudden death. All though, she brought up a question that made her lean over the table for it to be more dramatic. “Then again, who’s to say it was suicide?”

“Jen, come on.” Curtis mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Well, what else could it be?” You questioned the woman, raising your eyebrows as you emphasized the word for her to continue on with this angle.

“Well, you know about Crawford Hall.” Jen said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“No, we don’t, actually.” Sam said, adjusting himself in his seat.

“It’s a bunch of crap.” Curtis mumbled, obviously not believing whatever hushed words were being spoken about. “It’s a total urban legend.” 

“Yeah, well, Heather’s mom went to school here, and she knew the girl.” Jen mumbled, almost seeming to scold her friend for talking back like that to prove her point.

“Wait, what girl?” Sam asked, wondering what this hush hush talk was all about.

Jen looked back at the man, a light seemed to have popped in her eyes from that question. She leaned in her seat to explain the story to you and the man sitting across from her. “Like thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor. He broke it off. She jumped out of the window and killed herself.” 

“You know her name?”

“No.” Jen said, Curtis was smirking like an idiot as he took another sip of his beer, finding this entire conversation hilarious. “But they say she jumped from room 669. Get it? You turn the nine upside down…” You and Sam nodded your head, smiling when the both of you realized what it meant. “So now she haunts the building, and anyone who sees her…they don’t live to tell the tale.”

“Well, if no one lives to tell the tale,” Curtis spoke up, pointing out the small flaw in the story. “Then how does the tale get told?”

Jen looked at her friend with an annoyed glare. “Curtis, shut up!”

Sam looked over at you, knowing that this conversation had to be wrapped up before the both of you were pulled into an argument about this topic of which person was right. “You know what? Uh, thanks a lot, guys.” Sam said, reaching out a hand to grab the recorder. “Excuse us.”

The both of you got up from the table, leaving the college students to discuss the topic further if they wanted. Sam began heading toward the bar area, knowing very well that is where they would find his older brother. It was always you and him stuck with the work, but he didn’t mind sometimes. The both of you had made a good team, you were just as focused about finding out what was going on as him. All though, you stopped in your tracks with a disapproving frown stretching across your lips from the sight that you saw. Dean was at the bar, of course, with three different shots of some purple liquid he was pounding down one after another. Before even saying else, the younger man watched as you headed over to scold the man, like always.

“Dean. What are you,” You reached down a hand to take a quick sniff of the remaining booze, your nose crinkled at the powerful whiff of alcohol that burned. “What are you drinking?”

“I don’t know, man.” Dean said, letting out a belch. A drunken grin spread across his lips as he leaned himself against the bar. “I think they’re called purple nurples.”

“I think we should check out the professor’s office.” Sam butted into the conversation, knowing there was still work to be done and the two of you were beginning to get off track.

“Oh, no, no, no. I can’t right now. I’ve got this feisty little wildcat on the hook. I’m about ready to—ZZ! Reel her in.” Dean mumbled, leaning in closer to explain what was going on to his brother. You leaned in over to see what the girl had looked like. With her back turned toward the both of you, she was dressed in some fishnet tights with a little itty bitty denim skirt girl had looked like. With her back turned toward the both of you, she was dressed in some fishnet tights with a little itty bitty denim skirt and a belly shirt that seemed to have gotten some personal touches. “I’ll introduce you two.”

“Dean, wait—”

“Starla. Starla, hey.” Dean leaned over and tapped the woman on the shoulder, breaking her from another conversation she was having. The young woman downed her shot before swallowing, giving you and Sam some sort of half-drunken smile. “This is my shuttle co pilot, major Tom. Major Tom—Starla.”

Starla, who looked no younger than the legal drinking age, wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders and rested her head in the crook of his neck. She let out a giggle, “Enchante.”

“Hi.” Sam mumbled, giving the woman a small smile. You, on the other hand, crossed your arms over your chest and wrinkled your nose, sort of acting like someone who’d been introduced to a small child with no manners whatsoever.

The girl took a step backwards when she began to start letting out small gags and burps. She leaned against the bar, her free hand pressed against her mouth to keep herself from vomiting all of her free booze up tonight. “Sorry. Just trying to keep my liquor down.” She said, giving both of the men another smile.

“Yeah. Good job.” Dean said, giving the woman a matching smile. When she turned around to continue her conversation with another woman, he gave his brother a smirk. Sam was remaining quiet, giving his brother a look, as if he was the type of person to take what the man was offering. “She’s got a sister.” Sam knew that everything had gone to hell when his brother broke out into a toothy grin. It was clear from that point he was drunk out of his mind, and about to make a mistake. And like always, he was the only one that seemed focused on the case.

\+ + +

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a minute.” Dean cut off his brother, stopping the younger man from continuing this story that seemed nothing but bogus. You stood with your arms over your chest, knowing this was about to be another argument, but a strange one, at least.

“What?” Sam asked with slight annoyance.

“Come on, dude.” Dean said, giving his brother a look. “That’s not how it happened.”

“No? So you never drank a purple nurple?” Sam questioned his brother, raising an eyebrow up.

“Yeah, maybe that, but,” Dean said, knowing very well that one fact was true. “But I don’t say things like, 'feisty little wild cat.’ And her name wasn’t Starla.”

“Then what was it?” You asked the man, knowing yourself, but you wanted to test him to see if he had remembered any of that night.

Dean thought about it for a few moments, his face scrunched up in annoyance from your question. “I don’t know.” He admitted to all of you. You rolled your eyes at his typical move. “But she was a classy chick. She was a grad students in anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories.”

\+ + +

 

Dean’s Point of View:

Everything about tonight seemed to have been perfect; Dean had stumbled upon a young woman, a beautiful blonde that was classy and smart from her looks. She was a teacher’s assistant that was hanging around at the bar, hoping a man would come around to give her intellectual conversation she craved to have. That’s when Dean came along, stumbling upon the woman who seemed to have everything he was looking for. She was smart and held all sort of stories that seemed to be the kind of legends that would have made his job a little easier. So, he was more comfortable with letting loose and enjoying a few innocent drinks after having the information he needed.

“Here’s to—” She mumbled, keeping the shot glass hovering over her lips. She thought of a good thing to cheers for, but when Dean spoke up, her lips stretched to a smile.

“Here’s to us.” Dean suggested.

The both of them took that as the cue to down their drinks, letting the alcohol smoothly go down. She seemed like the type of woman that knew how to handle herself, and it only made the man want to know more about her.

“My God, you are attractive.” She whispered.

“Thanks. But no time for that now.” Dean said, knowing there was an important topic that still needed to be discussed. She licked her lips and leaned her backside against the bar. You need to tell me about this urban legend. Lived are at stake.“

"Sorry, I just—I can’t even concentrate.” She admitted, her tone lowered as she took a step forward to the man. “It’s like….staring into the sky.” He could feel her arm wrap around the back of his head as she got herself closer. He knew this was wrong, but before he could stop, her lips were on his. It was like sparks had gone off, tasting a sweet substance he didn’t know he’d craved until now.

But he knew this moment was going to last long when he heard two pairs of footsteps approach from behind. Dean allowed himself to enjoy the moment even more, but just as the kiss began to get deeper, a rather annoyed and almost high-pitched voice broke him from the wonderful feeling he was having.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked the two lovers in a rather annoyed voice, his lips pursing out. His brother made himself break away from the woman, his eyes casting on the sight of the disapproving glares from the both of you. You stood next to Sam with your arms crossed over your chest, giving the woman standing just across from him a venomous look. You’d always been the one to show your actions instead of speaking.

“Sam, Y/N, please.” Dean said, reaching out a thumb to brush off the lip gloss he’d had smeared during their shared moment of intimacy. “If you wouldn’t mind, just give me five more minutes here.”

“Dean, this is a very serious investigation.” Sam scolded his brother like always, shifting around his jacket he’d had resting on his shoulder and hooked on his index finger. “We don’t have time for any of your blah blah blah blah.” Dean’s lips twitched into a victorious smile when this flashback allowed his brother’s constant nagging into just gibberish words, allowing him to return toward the blonde that awaited to finish what they had started.

\+ + +

“Right. And that’s how it really happened.” Sam sarcastically implied, Dean just shrugged his shoulders. You ran a hand down your face in frustration, knowing this conversation was going like you had expected. Neither one of them had really remembered what had happened that night. “I don’t sound that either, Dean.”

“That’s what you sound like to me.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath.

“Okay, both of you shut up.” You said, waving for the both of them to quickly wrap up what had happened. “Her name was Rachel, she was majoring in psychology. While you were drinking,” You pointed a finger at Dean, “And you were wasting time on drunk freshman,” You pointed the other one at Sam, “

was the one that was talking to her.”

"Yeah, okay.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N Drew.”

“Okay.” Bobby observed the brothers, knowing this behavior you had warned him about was going full force. You knew he’d known the brothers since they were young, so you thought maybe he could get to the bottom of this problem. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing.” Sam denied, rolling his eyes in frustration. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on.” You said. “Ever since I roomed with you guys, you’d been nothing but each other’s throats. You’re bickering like an old married couple.”

“No, see, married couples can get divorced.” Dean said, getting up from the bed to distance himself from his brother. “Me and him? We’re like, uh, siamese twins.”

“It’s 'conjoined’ twins.” Sam corrected his brother, you rolled your eyes.

“See what I mean?” Dean asked, knowing his point had been proving was right.

“Look, it—we’ve been on the road for too long, tight quarters, all that.” Sam said to the older man with not much convincing in his tone. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” Bobby mumbled, seeming to leave the conversation at that.

“So, anyway,” You spoke up, knowing it was your turn to tell the next part of the story. You headed over to the edge of the bed Dean was previously sitting on. “We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime.”

\+ + +

The campus had been well beyond deserted when you and the brothers arrived shortly after night fall, dressed in some local electric company jackets to make this gig seem a bit more believable and keep questions from rising about needed to see some dead guy’s office. You snooped around the place until you found the janitor was who was working the graveyard shift. He seemed pretty polite and more than happy to help all of you, making small talk while leading all of you up to the top floor to inspect the professor’s office that needed to be sweeped over for possible traces of EMF to see if this was the kind of gig that needed your attention.

“So, how long have you been working here?” You curiously asked, following behind the man to the office that was now just a few doors down.

“I’ve been mopping these floors for six years.” He said, stopping at the office door with the deceased man’s name written on the glass. He shoved one of the keys into the lock and allowed the door to swing open. Flicking on a light switch, he stepped inside first before guesting an arm for you to follow behind. An innocent smile crept along your lips from his act, mumbling a thank you before heading inside the office to take a quick observation. “There you go, guys.” The brothers followed behind, Sam pulled out the reader to take a quick scan of the room, booting up the machine. “What the heck’s that for?”

“Just find the wire in the walls.” Sam lied, heading over to the back of the room to take a quick sweep. All though from the lack of familiar buzzing, it seemed there wasn’t much activity from where the professor had took the swan dive.

“Ah. Well.” The janitor leaned himself against one of the walls and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not sure why you’re wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good.”

“Why’s that?” Dean asked.

“He’s dead.” The man said. All of you pretended to be surprised by that blunt news.

“Oh. What happened?” The older Winchester mumbled, trying to seem curious, but your eyes trailed over to see him wandering toward a small candy dish of chewy caramel candy pieces that were calling for his name. It looked to be the type that made your jaw ache from trying to chew it down because it was so tough. You rolled your eyes before putting your attention back to the janitor when he continued on with the story.

“He went out that window right there.” He said, pointing a finger at the one right across from the desk. .

You raised your eyebrows, “Yeah? Were you working that night?”

“I’m the one who found him.” He said.

Nodding your head, you glanced over your shoulder to see that Dean was stuffing his mouth full of candy and Sam was now standing by your side, waiting to hear more about this story. “And did you see it happen?”

“Nope. I just saw him come up here and, uh…well,” The man seemed to have been hinting at something interesting, you heard Sam mumble something out for the man to continue. What he began hinting around seemed to have made the legend more possibly true. “He wasn’t alone.”

“Who was he with?” Dean came strolling on back to where you and his brother were standing. His cheeks were puffed out like a little chipmunk, a few half chewed candies stuffed on either side of his mouth. That’s what you had thought he was acting like. (Of course, from the dirty look that the man was now giving you, it seemed he wasn’t too happy about it. But nevertheless, you continued on with your version of the story.)

“He was with a young lady. I told the cops about her.” He explained, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “But I guess they never found her.”

“You saw this girl go in, huh? But did you ever see her come out?” You asked.

“Now that you mention it, no.” He said, you decided to see if he happened to know more.

“You ever see her before, perhaps around the campus?” You continued to try and ask him questions to see if he had information.

“Not her.” His tone was becoming more sly, like he knew a dirty secret he was itching to share with all of you.

Dean, still with a mouth full of food, decided to speak up next. “What do you mean?” Your facial expressions faltered just the slightest from his manners that seemed to have disappeared. Shoving him with your hip, you gave him a dirty look before focusing your attention back on the janitor when you heard him answer the other man’s question.

“I don’t mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy, but, uh… Mr. Morality here? He brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat.” His witty comment made a small chuckle escape your lips. But your attitude faltered just the slightest when Dean let out a throaty laugh, throwing up an arm to playfully smack his brother on the shoulder all before shoving another piece of candy into his mouth. Rolling your eyes, you quickly ripped the candy bowl out of his hands, having enough with his habit of shoving food in his mouth until he choked on one.

“One more thing. This building—-it only has four stories, right?” You asked, knowing the man would have an answer from the legend you heard about. “So there wouldn’t be a room 669?”

“Of course not.” He said. “Why do you ask?”

“Ah, just curious.” You mumbled, giving the topic an innocent shrug. “Thanks for you time.”

You were almost about to walk out of the door before you realized you were holding the candy dish, you tried looking around for a decent place to stash this thing. But another smile of appreciation spread across your lips when you saw the janitor had offered out a helping hand. You handed it over, mumbling another thank you. As you glanced at the candy, you couldn’t help but sneak one candy from the dish, feeling a bit tempted to have a bite and seeing what was making Dean so thrilled to have. You chewed down and let the taste melt in your mouth, it was pretty good, so you reached for another.

“Tempting, aren’t they?” You looked up to see the man was giving you a smile, you nodded your head and tried to return his gesture. But when you heard your name being called, you swallowed the candy. “See you around, sugar.” You could feel a slight tint of blush creep along your cheeks when he gave a playful wink, all before someone returned to the office, wondering what was taking so long.

\+ + +

“Well, there’s no traces of EMF, that’s for sure.” Sam mumbled as he opened up the door to the motel room, heading inside first with you following behind. You shrugged off your jacket and threw it on one of the free chairs at the table, letting out a sigh of annoyance from the lack of evidence that didn’t seem to prove this urban legend right.

“And that room 669’s a load of crap.” Dean added, putting down the bulky metal briefcase before heading to the fridge to grab a couple of beers for everyone. 

“So, what do you think?” You asked the brothers, wondering what their thoughts on this situation was. “The professor’s just a jumper? A legend’s just a legend?”

“I don’t know.” Dean admitted, plopping down one glass bottle for you and his brother. He twisted off the top and threw it the the counter. “The girl that the janitor described—that was pretty weird.” You nodded your head in agreement. “We ought to check out the history of the building. See if any coed ganked herself there.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Sam said. You watched from the corner of your eye as Dean placed his beer back to the counter after taking a sip and headed for the bathroom. The younger brother reached for the laptop that was sitting on the table and began to see if he start on some research. But what he had found wasn’t what he had last left. You had your own laptop that had been functioning just fine, so there could have been only one person responsible. “Dude, were you on my computer?”

Dean popped his head out from the other room when he heard you remain silent, you looked over your shoulder to see what the commotion was about. “No.” Dean said, seeming to be trying hard to act innocent.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause it’s frozen now on—on bustyasianbeauties.com.” Sam read off from the frozen webpage, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a laugh from the stages of denial toward the rooky mistake Dean had made. You began to laugh even harder when he just walked away, pretending as if this didn’t exist. “Dean…Would you just—don’t touch my stuff anymore, okay?”

“Why don’t you control your OCD?” Dean fired back, stepping into the room again. You turned your attention back to Sam, waiting to see what his response was going to be. But all his brother got was the infamous bitch face, and you when you began to laugh even harder at this situation, his gaze slowly lingered on to you. He obviously wasn’t finding this amusing as you were.

\+ + +

“But did you dig up anything about the building, or on the suicidal coed?” Bobby asked, you shook your head and rocked your body on the back of your heels. After hearing this entire story, he tried getting everyone back to the important questions right now.

“No.” You said. “History’s clean.”

Then it’s not a haunting.“ Bobby pointed out.

"Maybe not.” Dean spoke up, knowing the next few events that had happened during the time here had been something straight from trashy magazine you’d find at any newsstand. Sure, you’d help the family with cases and hunted new supernatural species that you thought to be fictional. But this, this had to be some joke. “Tell you the truth, we’re not really sure.”

Bobby looked at Dean with confusion, "What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“Well,” Sam tried to explain himself, but he paused for a moment. “It’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Bobby continued to question, wanting to know what this fuss was about.

The next story was going to be a weird one, that’s for sure. “This next part, we, uh,” Dean started rambling on, walking a few steps across the room, “We didn’t see it happen ourselves, exactly, but…it’s pretty friggin’ weird. Even for us.”

“Basically…” You couldn’t help yourself but comment, knowing it could explain what had happened. “If E.T. grew up and came back to earth because it was bored, let’s just say, Dean and that little thing would have a lot in common. You know what I mean?”

“Come on, Y/N! Really?”

“Oh, shut up and tell the damn story.”

\+ + +

So, you and the boys told Bobby everything you learned about what had happened to Curtis, that college student Sam had actually interviewed just the other day. It almost seemed like he had just stepped out from an episode of X Files, claiming to have come in contact with extraterrestrial life sources. Just, not in the way that he wanted or one would think to happen. You cringed at the thought before diverting your attention to the man across the room, waiting to see what his response was going to be.

“Aliens?”

“Mmhm.”

“Aliens?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, even if they are real,” Bobby started, and from the tone of his voice, he didn’t seem to have been the type of person to believe in such a thing. “They’re sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people.”

"Hey, believe me. We know.” Dean said, knowing how strange all of this sounded.

“My whole life I’ve never found evidence an honest-to-God abduction.” Bobby said. Even from all the stories and documentaries you watched during times when you couldn’t sleep or got bored, you still weren’t the one to think of such things. All though, this case had been getting stranger with each day that passed by. “It’s all just cranks and pranks.”

“Yeah, that’s what we thought. But…” Sam pushed himself off the wall he was previously leaning against and began to walk forward. “We figured we’d at least talk to the guy.”

\+ + +

Finding Curtis wasn’t all that hard; you and the brothers spotted him in the same place during the first days of arriving at campus, the bar. You were still playing the reporter angle to see if you could get him to talk about this whole alien abduction. He seemed to have been a bit tense about thinking about it, but you knew what would calm his nerves, which would be a little liquid confidence. You’d bought him three rounds of shots to see if that would he him speak about what happened. You watched as he took a hand off the table and reached for one of the drinks, downing it all in one sip. But your attention shifted toward the older Winchester that was sitting across from the man.

“Hey, you ought to give those purple nurples a shot.” Dean chuckled, thinking that he was funny, or at least, helpful.

You cleared your throat, causing the man to quickly realize from the serious glare you were giving him, the suggestion wasn’t exactly helpful at the moment. When you had got one man under control, you looked over at Curtis now with a softened expression. “So, what happened, Curtis?”

Curtis glanced up from the table, he shook his head and frowned. “You won’t believe me. Nobody does.” He whispered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Give us a chance.” Sam said, trying to persuade the man into talking.

“I do not want this in the papers.” Curtis ordered

You nodded your head. “Off the record, then.”

Curtis was quiet for the longest moment, shifting his attention around at the three of you, wondering if you were really going to believe him. You and the brothers were quiet and nothing short of a serious face, knowing you weren’t going to make this man feel awkward about whatever he wasn’t going to admit. “I, uh…I blacked out, and…I lost time, and when I woke up, I don’t know where I was.” His story sounded pretty interesting enough, but as he lost his trail in thought, he paused and began to relive the flashbacks of the events.

Sam pulled out a chair, across from the man and sat down. “Then what?”

“They did tests of me. And, uh…” Curtis explained, voice cracking in nervousness. But before he could get himself to continue, he reached for another shot and downed it in a blink of an eye. Feeling the alcohol calm his nerves just enough for him to finish his thought, he spoke up again. “They, uh…they probed me.“

Your teeth sunk down deep into your bottom lip to keep yourself from letting out the slightest noise as Sam had to turn his head and pretend to scratch the back of his head to keep his half smile from being shown. Dean seemed to have been the most calm one, probably from the surprise at the turn of events. He blinked a few times before asking again, "They probed you?”

Curtis face scrunched up in anger. “Yeah, they probed me. Again and a-again and—and again.” You thought this had to be some sort of cruel joke because you were trying everything in your power not show the slightest smile or noise resembling a laugh. You glanced over at the brothers when Curtis took the last shot, Dean seemed to have been lost for words and Sam was smiling about the entire situation before dropping to a sympathetic face when facing the younger man. “And again and again and again and then one more time.”

“Yikes.” Dean mumbled to himself.

“And that’s not even the worst of it.” Curtis said, knowing himself there was more.

“How could it get any worse?” Dean asked, cracking a smile, as if this was a joke. “Some alien made you his bitch.”

You threw the man a glare, knowing that his mouth always seemed to have ran a bit faster than his mind could keep up with. All though, Curtis seemed to have been pushed to tell more about what had happened to him. "They…They made me…” He trailed off a bit as he face scrunched up, yelling out the last two words. “Slow dance!” You stared at the man for the longest time; you didn’t even care anymore, a shameless smile spread across your lips. This was a joke. It had to be.

\+ + +

“You guys are exaggerating again, huh?” Bobby asked the three of you, knowing all of you were guilty of doing it before in the past. You plopped yourself between Sam, who was sitting on the middle couch cushion and Deen, who decided to sit on the arm rest.

“No.” The three of you repeated in usion.

“Then this frat boy’s just nuts.” Bobby suggested.

You shrugged your shoulders. “We’re not so sure.”

\+ + +

You stood on top of the stairs that lead directly to the college building, but your attention was placed on the field that had a large enough circle to be twice the size of you, burned deep enough to leave only a patch of dirt. You were the type of person that would only believe in what you could see, but still, you were a bit skeptical to wonder if this really was happening. It had to be some kind of joke; one that you would play on someone like Curtis. You had learned he was in a fraternity and it was the tradition to pull all the stops out. Someone was pulling out all the tops to make sure people were thinking that an alien abduction could have happened here.

“This was made by some kind of jet engine.” Sam said, seeming to think this could have been real.

“You mean some saucer-shaped jet engine?” Dean questioned in a sarcastic overtone.

“What else could it be?” Sam asked, knowing there was no other explanation.

You stared at the circle, still not sure what to think about everything that was going on. “What the hell?” You muttered underneath your breath.

“I don’t know.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Seriously, dude—what the hell?” Dean asked his brother.

“I don’t know.” Sam repeated again, turning his attention away from the sight to stare at his brother. “I mean, first the hauntings. Now this? The timing alone—There’s gotta be some kind of connection.”

“You mean between the angry spirit and the sexed-up E.T.?” You questioned the younger man. But you caught yourself for a moment, realizing what you just said might have been the strangest thing out of your mouth, ever. “What could the connection possibility be?”

You knew questioning and getting angry wasn’t going to solve anything. So, all of you headed around to find someone that just happened to known Curtis for who he really was. He was walking back from classes,and just so happened, wasn’t afraid of taking a moment out from his time to tell the three of you what he had thought about the man who’d had a close encounter with the third kind was no more than karma’s way of getting back from the horrible things he’d done.

“So, you and this guy, Curtis—you were in the same house together?” You asked the man, who had just nodded his head. Just from the calm look on his face, it seemed that he wasn’t so shocked. “You heard what happened to him, right?” 

“Yeah, he says it was aliens, but you know,” He said, giving everything a shrug. “Whatever.”

“Look, man I–I know this all has to be so hard.” Sam, the one that always has to say sympathetic things to people, was at it again. You knew it was in his nature to be the one that got closer to people. But this was Dean’s flashback now, and of course, the man was going to be dramatic about all of this. So, you had to stand the trainwreck of what was about to happen.

The student’s face scrunched up. “Um, not so much.”

“But I want you to know…I’m here for you. You brave little soldier. I acknowledge your pain.” Sam whispered, his tone was nothing more than sickly sweet of support and caring that it made the younger man feel awkward. He shifted his eyesight toward you and Dean, who were standing back and watching this unfold. Dean’s mouth fell open to say something in order to stop his brother, but it was too late. Sam took a step forward and wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re too precious for this world.”

Sam stood there, his arms wrapped around the boy, who had to be at least a few inches shorter than the man, in a bear hug. He seemed to have been taking this moment quite serious, letting out a sigh from the heavy emotions that he was feeling.

“Well, um…yeah, uh, thanks. Thanks for the hug, but, uh, I’m okay. Really.” The student managed to lure Sam away, patting his side a few times before the taller man stepped away. Sam took a step back, but made sure to prove his point by patting the boy’s shoulders a few times with a steady amount of pressure before finally stepping back to let the student finish. “To tell you the truth, whatever happened to Curtis, he had it coming.”

“Why is that?” Dean asked.

“He’s our pledge master. Put us through hell this semester and got off on it.” He said, explaining a pattern none of you had really seemed to notice, until now. “So now he knows how we feel.”

You nodded your head at his answer, knowing it had made sense for what had happened. Bad things happen to those who inflict pain on others. But as you turned your attention to the younger Winchester, you saw his little puppy dog eyes staring at you. A sigh escaped your lips from the look on his face. “It’s okay.” You mumbled, reaching out a hand to pat him on the shoulder. For such a large, strong man. He sure as hell could be a softie.

\+ + +

You and the brothers arrived a bit later after investigating this new possible case. It had been a new one for you, something that made you wonder if someone really had been abducted by an alien. Or perhaps it could have been the because of another reason. There was enough sick and twisted creatures out there that got off on messing with people, you just needed to figure it out before someone else had gotten hurt, or worse, dead. But somehow, there was a small part of you that was saying these people deserved it. One was a cheater, the other an ass.

“Still doesn’t make a lick of sense.” Dean said, stepping inside the room first with you following behind. He headed over to the loveseat and shrugged off his jacket, throwing it to the couch. “But, hey, at least there’s one connection.”

“Between one?” You asked, making it noticeably clear you were fed up with his crap on the one place you were crashing. You tossed it over to his bed, but it seemed the man was so caught up in his arrogance, you rolled your eyes and sat down on the couch, wondering what his big theory was going to be about.

“The victims.” He said, kicking his legs to rest them on the coffee table. Sam headed over to his bed, busying himself with searching for something. “The professor and the frat guy—they’re both dicks.”

“So are you, sometimes.” You muttered underneath your breath. “That’s your big connection?”

“You got anything better to go on, I’d love to hear it.” Dean said. You just mocked him from his tone of voice that was getting on your last nerve. But you turned your head to the bedding area when you heard Sam speak up, holding up his messenger bag that was empty.

“Where’s my laptop?” He asked the both of you.

You shrugged your shoulders, glancing around the room to see where he could he possibly put it. Dean shifted his eyesight away from his brother. “I don’t know.” He mumbled. As his brother began to tear apart his bed, the other one had to continue this brilliant thought of his that was making your eyes desperately needed to roll into the back of your skull. “Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed.”

"I left it in here.” Sam spoke up again, cutting his brother off.

“You obviously didn’t.” Dean said, becoming a bit angry that the attention was taken off him for the moment. As Sam went over to his brother’s bed, the other one continued rambling. “I mean, these punishments—they’re almost poetic. Actually, it’d be more like a limerick, but still—”

Sam had enough, stomping over to the sitting area and loomed over his brother. “Okay, hilarious. Ha ha. Where’d you hide it?”

“What, your computer?”

“Yeah, where’d you hide it?”

“Why would I take your computer?”

"Because no one else could have taken it. And Y/N is clearly using her own.” Sam said. You stopped in your movements when you were leaning over to grab your laptop, facing two sets of eyes on you for a moment. “We keep the door locked. We never let any maids in.”

“Looks like you lost it, Poindexter.” Dean remarked, his lips stretching into a smirk from his witty remark he had come up with on the spot. Sam stared his brother for a long moment, you averted your attention back to your laptop screen when you realized world war three was just about to break loose between the brothers. Again, you were so happy to be an only child. “Dude, you know something? I put up with a lot from you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m a joy to be around.” Dean said. You let out a scoff.

“Yeah? Your dirty socks in the sink, your food in the fridge.” Sam pointed out only the few flaws in rooming with his brother that was getting on his last nerve.

“What’s wrong with my food?” Dean questioned. Just from looking at leftover Chinese that had been sitting on the counter, claiming he would finish it later, you could have discovered a new species of mold from the color and odd looking texture you’d never seen before.

“It’s not food anymore, Dean! It’s darwinism.” Sam yelled out. “All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don’t mess with my stuff!”

Dean stared at his brother, “You done?”

The younger brother shook his head in anger from how insensitive the man could have been acting. Just as he turned away to end the argument, he decided to use a perfect example of how much his laptop meant to him. “You know, how would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?”

Messing with Baby? Oh, that was just asking for trouble. You could see a protective glare come over Dean’s face from the mention of his car. He could have been too obsessive over that thing, sometimes. “It’d be the last thing you ever did.”

“Dean, buddy,” You brought his attention over to you. You grabbed a pillow from the couch and decided to show him an example from the point Sam was trying to make. Shaking the pillow, you hinted at the demonstration you were about to make. “This is you. And here’s what Sam’s trying to say."Just as you threw it just high enough to make it go over his head, you flinched when it happened to land right against his head. You watched as he shoved the thing off and gave you a glare. You gave him an innocent shrug. “Oops.”

\+ + +

Brothers will be brothers. You stood across from the table with your arms crossed over your chest to wait and see what next argument was going to break out. After finishing another part of this story, you knew it had ended with Sam’s computer that was still missing, there was nobody to point the finger at. The both of them were sitting at the table, a half-drunk beer bottles were hanging loosely from their grips. You turned your head to look at Bobby when he decided to ask the dreaded question, knowing it was going to bring up, yet another, argument. “Did you take his computer?” His attention was on Dean, waiting to see what his response was.

“Serves him right,” Dean muttered underneath his breath, a glare directed at his brother who was sitting across from him at the table. You rolled your eyes, but got the answer you knew was true. “But, no.”

“Well, I didn’t lose it. Sam said, still have a feeling his brother could have done it. He’d searched every inch of this place and each bag that was inside the motel room, all though, there was no possible evidence that Dean had stolen it. Still, the man seem convinced his brother could have done it. “Cause I don’t lose things.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dean sarcastically remarked, turning his head to look at Bobby, “Because he’s Mr. Perfect.”

“Okay, okay.” Bobby calmed down the brothers, just enough for the both of them to get started on telling the rest of the story that happened just last night. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened next?”

“There was one more victim.” Dean began, but his brother cut him off to explain himself.

“Now, we didn’t see this one ourselves, either. We kind of put it together from the evidence.” Sam said. “But this guy—he was a research scientist. Animal testing.”

"You know—a dick. But he fit the pattern. So we decided to check it out.” Dean said. You knew this was going to be a weird one to explain, but the urban legend was too classic and heard a million times over not to be what you had seen at least a few times over. “Cops didn’t release the because of death because they had no clue what the because was.”

“So, we checked it out ourselves.”

\+ + +

You were crouched on the grass, night had fallen hours ago as the time was slowly tittering toward the wee hours of morning, leaving anyone in the morgue closed for business. You had the flashlight concentrated on the tinted basement window that lead directly to where the body of a scientist had been found. Sam took out his pocket knife and slid it beneath the crack to start wiggling around at the lock, just enough until you heard the familiar sound of it clicking back into place.

He pulled it open and made a quick scan of the building to see if there was anyone possibly around, but when the coast was clear, he headed down first. You followed behind the man, swinging your legs around and dropped down with a small thud. Dean was the last one, mumbling something for one of you to take his flashlight before throwing it. You managed to snatch it before it could tumble to the floor and make a suspicious noise.

Closing the window, the both of you went over to the freezer to find the body. You grabbed the handle and swung it open. But what you saw inside wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“Well, this ought to be quick.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. Sam took a step forward, leaning over you to see what you had found, his face dropped in surprise at the lack of a human sized shape underneath the white blanket. You moved to the side, giving the brothers a look, wondering who was going to do the honors of examining this person’s body.

Dean was the once forced to carry the tray and place it down on the metal table. Your nose scrunched up in disgust when you watched as he also lifted up the bloody sheet, showing off what was remained of an arm and possibly his upper torso from the chomped off bits. Maybe it was a leg you were staring at. Either way, it was hard to tell from the torn flesh and remaining scraps of clothes. You didn’t know if you wanted to vomit from the sight or the smell of it.

“Ugh.” Dean turned his head away from the sight. “That is just nasty.”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam agreed, his hand had been pressed against his mouth.

“Mutilated?” Dean asked.

“Looks to me like something was hungry.” You mumbled, tilting your head to the side as you leaned down a bit closer to examine the limbs. Something must have sharp teeth in order to do this, another human possibly couldn’t have done this. Still, strange things have been happening around here these past few days during your time here.

“They identify him yet?” The older Winchester wondered.

“Yeah. A research scientist at the college. Guess where he office was, by the way.” You said, glancing up from the body for a moment. You heard Dean hummed a response to know the answer. “Crawford Hall, same as the professor.”

“That’s right where the frat boy had his close encounter.” Dean said, seeming to notice the connection.

“Yeah.” You muttered. You caught something that looked strangely familiar, but from where you were standing, it was hard to identify what it really was. Glancing up for a moment, you saw something that might help you, it looked to be a medical magnifying glass from the size of it. “Hey, grab me that thing, would you?”

One of the brothers headed over and grabbed it for you, mumbling a thanks, you placed it over one of the spot. You examined what looked to be a dark greenish substance that seemed too hard just to be a piece of fabric. As you examined it further, it looked to be rough to the touch, something that you wouldn’t find in this area. “What is it?”

“Looks like a…” Your eyebrows furrowed when you realized what it was. “A belly scale?”

"A belly scale?” Dean repeated, seeming surprised himself. “From what?”

“Um…an alligator?” You said, almost questioning if you were right about this. Even though you were all for keeping the animals safe in this world from being tested on for beauty or any sort of harm, you couldn’t help but make a sarcastic comment. “What a great handbag this thing would make.”

Sam gave you a look, knowing that might have been the reason why this guy ended up dead in the first place. “An alligator in the sewer.” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes when he realized the similarity toward a story he’d heard enough times over. “Come on.”

“What? It’s a classic urban legend, Dean.” His little brother said. “A kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet, and it grows huge in the tunnels.”

“Yeah, but no one’s ever really found one. They’re not real.” Dean said. You had to admit he was right, there had been enough cases about it in the past, and for an animal with that size and what it diet required, there was no way this could be happening. All though, the other two cases you were now working on seemed to be making any theory or legend come true.

“Neither is alien abduction,” Sam pointed out, “but something chomped on this guy.”

“This couldn’t get any weirder.” Dean muttered, glancing down at the corpse again.

“Maybe we should get some help.” You suggested, knowing asking for a helping hand wouldn’t hurt. “I’ll call Bobby. Maybe he’s run into something like this before.”

“Oh, I’m sure he has.” Dean remarked, making you roll your eyes in frustration. “Just your typical haunted campus, alien abduction, alligator-in-the-sewer gig. Yeah, it’s simple.”

\+ + +

The next morning all of you decided to check below in the sewers to see if you could find any sort of evidence to make this urban legend seem true. You and Sam buddied up, taking one end of the campus while Dean was on his own. The both of you searched for a few hours, checking every single inch of the undergrounds, but still came up with nothing.

You had came back to the hotel afterward to see that the older brother still wasn’t back yet. It would be bad to think he could had fallen victim to the gator, but on the other hand, it could be wishful thinking. You busied yourself with searching up some things on your laptop and Sam kept quiet with a book. Everything seemed at peace for about an hour, that was, until you heard the motel door open and roughly slam shut.

Dean was alive and well, but from his body language as he stomped over toward the both of you, he seemed pissed. But it wasn’t at you, most of his attention was concentrated on his brother, who didn’t seem to notice anything when he gave the man a quick nod before turning his attention back to his book. “You think this is funny?” Dean questioned his brother.

“It depends.” Sam said, looking over his shoulder and at his brother. “What?”

Dean mocked his brother, mumbling his words before hissing, “The car!”

“What about the car?” Sam asked, still not knowing what was going on.

“You can’t let the air out of the tires, you idiot. You’re gonna bend the rims!” Dean yelled. Your face dropped when you heard what happened to the Impala. Well, either Sam really was serious about getting back at his brother, or there was some serious bad luck going on. Either way, Dean was going to get his revenge on who hurt Baby, no matter who it was.

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Sam said. He shut the book and sat up straighter in the chair. “I didn’t go near your car. I’ve been with Y/N this whole time.”

“Oh, yeah? Huh. Then how’d I find this?” Dean reached inside his jeans pocket and pulled out a wad of money, pinned in with the clip you’d given the younger Winchester for his birthday. Sterling silver with his initials carved into the metal. he’d recognize it from anywhere. You watched as his face dropped in surprise, realizing that he’d lost all of that money without realizing it.

Sam tossed the book the coffee table and got up from his chair. He patted around his pockets just to be safe, but when he was coming up short, he put out a hand. “Hey, give me back my money.”

“Oh, no, no. Consider it reparation for, uh,” Dean said, trying to come up with a sarcastic excuse to keep all of the cash to himself. It was enough to cover tires, but that wasn’t going to be good enough. “Emotional trauma.”

“Yeah, very funny.” Sam said, following behind his brother, who was making his way to the beds to take off his jacket. “Now, give it back.”

You let out a sigh, putting your laptop to the side and got up. “Guys.” You tried your hardest to be loud enough to break up the fight, but you were just drowned out. Sam reached for the money, but his brother pulled it away before he could snatch it back. “Seriously, Dean just give him back—”

“Dean, I have had it up to here with you.” Sam said, anger lining in his words.

“Yeah? Right back at you!” Dean fired back like a younger sibling.

You took a step forward to the point where you could be in their line of vision, but nothing could break the concentration that they had on one another. Crossing your arms over your chest, you watched as Sam experimented by reaching a hand forward to see his brother was distracted enough, but Dean immediately pulled his hand upwards. Sam pretend to chuckle, brushing his hand against his nose before trying again. But again, his move was blocked. Dean pushed his brother, but Sam retaliated by trying to grab his brother. You watched as they both stumbled on toward the bed after this fight was becoming more petty instead of aggressive. For being well trained hunters, they were sure as hell distracted and horrible of pinning each other down.

“Get off of me!”

“Give it back!“

You couldn’t believe how immature they were behaving. You let them fight it out for another moment as you headed over to the table to snatch the keys to the Impala and the wad of cash that stumbled on to the floor. As they began to get rougher and aggressive, you opened up the window to the outside and let the chilly wind come into the motel. With your hand out to the alley below, you made your own move. “Enough!” You shouted on the top of your lungs.

The brothers finally seemed to have began to notice your presence after these past few heavily angered days. You stood there with your arm below the pavement, dangling the two precious things the brothers had been fighting about in the first place. You watched as they pulled apart, your lips twitched into a smirk. "Which one do you want lost forever?” You asked, shaking the keys loud enough to snag Dean’s attention. The silver clip reflected in the fluorescent lights from the sign next you. As you saw them make their move, you shook your head. “Ah, ah, ah! One step and I’ll drop them into the storm drain below.”

"Come on, Y/N. You can’t pull that kind of move.” Dean said, knowing the Impala was parked below. Even though you were right about the drain, he didn’t think you would be able to target something so precise like that. “There’s no way in hell you can aim that well.”

“Hunting has made a lot of a lot better in many ways. Do you want me to prove myself, Winchester?” You remarked at the man, waiting to see what their response was. They remained silent, knowing there was a chance you would do something like that. Rolling your eyes, you placed your arm back inside, but you didn’t give the objects back to the brothers. You shoved them inside your pockets. Ignoring them shouting your name in anger, you pointed a finger at them. “Shut up, you big babies.“

\+ + +

"Okay, I’ve heard enough.” Bobby declared, knowing that he was at his wit’s end. You barely had enough of a voice in most of this, too busy letting the other two men tell the story that only seemed to have ended with them fighting over something stupid, now that you think about it. During your time researching and listening back to the story, you might have found the reason behind all of this, but you barely were getting one word in.

“Anyway, you showed up an hour after that.” You said, glancing at the older man who was standing next to you. “It barely gave me enough time, or patience, to keep them from killing each other from these obviously stupid event.”

“I’m surprised at you two. I really am.” Bobby said. You watched as his demeanor shifted toward almost like a father figure, getting ready to punish the brothers. “Sam, first off, Dean did not steal your computer.”

“But I—”

Bobby was quick to shush the younger man, stopping him from making anymore loud protests. “And Dean,” He shifted his attention toward the other brother that was now glowing with arrogance, but you knew that wasn’t going to last long. “Sam did not touch your car.” You rolled your eyes when the younger brother took his turn to let a grin spread across his lips. “And if you two bothered to pull your heads out of your asses, it all would have been pretty clear.”

“What?” Dean asked, a bit dumbfounded.

“What we’re dealing with, idiot.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Like always, I have been researching non stop and I think I found something. I called Bobby back up because I didn’t know how long your sissy little fight was going to last. And we could always use a second opinion. But, come on, guess what it is.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as the brothers shifted around in their seats, trying their hardest to figure it out what it was for the next few seconds before admitting defeat.

“I got nothing.”

"Me either.”

Bobby let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head in disappointment. “You’ve got a trickstar on your hands.”

Dean snapped his fingers, as if that was on the tip of his tongue. “That’s what I thought.”

“What? No, you didn’t.” You said, chuckling at the man.

“I’ve got to tell you,” Bobby spoke up again, “You guys were the biggest clue.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked the man.

“These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing.” You explained, giving the brothers a serious look, knowing their behavior had been nothing but irresponsible and immature. “And it’s got you so turned around and each other’s throats, you can’t even think straight.”

“The laptop.”

“The tires.”

“It knows you’re onto him,” Bobby said. “And it’s been playing you like fiddles.”

“So, what is it—spirit, demon, what?”

“Well, more like demigods, really. There’s Loki in Scandinavia. There’s Anasi in West Africa. Dozens of them.” Bobby said, lifting off a few examples of the creatures. “They’re immortal, and they can create things out of thin air, things as real as you and me. Make them vanish just as quick.” 

“You mean like an angry spirit or an alien or an alligator.” Dean mumbled.

“The victims fit the m.o., too.” Bobby said, explaining a bit more of what he knew, making everything that had been happening just a bit more clearer. “Tricksters target the high and mighty, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor—deadly pranks, things like that.”

“Bobby, what do these things look like?” You curiously asked the man.

“Lots of things,” He said. “But human, mostly.”

You let the information that you heard and the previous one you read about sink in your mind. After a few seconds, you turned your attention toward the brothers. You knew who it was. “And what human do we know who’s been at ground zero this whole time?” It took them a few seconds to sort through the many people you’d met, but it clicked. “The janitor.”

\+ + +

How do you beat a trickster at his own game? Play along and pretend like everything that he wants to be. You have a few tricks up your own sleeve and see where it could lead. All the brothers had to do was pretend to continue being pissed at one another, you would lead the lamb to the slaughter. You and the boys arrived at Crawford Hall just early enough in the morning to catch the trickster himself. After making up some excuse of needing access to the third floor, he nodded his head and locked up the storage where all the tools were kept.

“Sorry I’m dragging a little ass today, guys. Had quite the night last night.” He said, heading toward the staircase, you followed in sync with him. Just as he made the first step, he twisted himself on the banister and leaned over to the brothers, cracking a smirk before mumbling, “Lots of sex, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, hard not to.” You mumbled, trying your hardest not to roll your eyes at his sudden cocky attitude. “Listen, we won’t be long. We just need to check a couple of offices up on three.”

"No problem.” He said. Giving you a wink, you returned it with a smile.

“Oh, damn. I, uh, forget something in the truck.” Sam said, going along with the plan from a small signal given to him by his brother. The four of you stopped and looked at the younger man. “You know what? I’ll catch up with you guys.”

Nodding your head, you and Dean followed behind the other man, letting Sam slip away to find the potential signs to see if this was the creature you were looking for. You made it up to the third floor and toward the office that you so needed to see. Opening up the door to the room, you mumbled a thank you before stepping inside to take a look around. You pretended to examine some wiring that was peeking out from the wall as you saw Deen head over to the other side of the room. When you glanced away from the wall, you were now facing the janitor. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms against his chest, you gave him another smile.

“So, how does someone like you get into this kind of job?” He started off, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion from his question. You weren’t sure if somehow he knew what you really were, but what he said next made your body relax slightly. “You seem like a smart woman, if I may say, who would do something a big bigger, more exciting kind of things.”

“It’s the family business. My mom and his dad started this company together. It only seems fit we continue to make it a good name. Besides, you meet quite a few interesting people working these type of jobs.” You said, playing along with a smile that was slowly turning into a smirk. “If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I do very much.” He said, nodding his head. You watched as his eyes flickered over to Dean for a moment before his focused his attention back toward you. “You know, stop me if I’m too forward, but there’s just something about you that I can’t get out of my head. Would be out of line if I asked a smart, beautiful woman like yourself out on a date?”

Your lips twitched into a small smile as a warm sensation began to creep along up your neck. This wasn’t exactly the plan you’d had in mind about a distraction, but a small part of you wanted to play along a bit further, see where it could go. Just as you opened your mouth to answer, Dean’s voice seemed to have come out instead. “All done here.” He declared, taking a few steps forward so he was now not too far from the both of you. “Let’s go to the next room, shall we?”

\+ + +

You and the brothers wrapped up the first part of the plan, but for this to really work, they needed to make up a fight that seemed real enough to pass. This trickster wanted the boys at each other's throats, so you were going to make sure they had their biggest fight yet. Noticing that he was following behind all of you, this was going just as planned. You pushed open the doors to the exit, stepping back outside from the building to the steps. Sam and Dean were behind and on your heels, acting as if you didn’t exist, caught up in some argument that was loud enough for almost anyone to hear if they were paying close attention.

“Just ‘cause he reads the World Weekly News doesn’t mean he’s our guy.” Sam said, playing the typical angle of the good brother. Some trashy magazines in his locker didn’t seem to be enough evidence to make the man seem to believe this could have been him. “You read it, too.”

"I’m telling you it’s him.” Dean argued back, walking down the steps.

“Look, I just think we need some hard proof. That’s all. I didn’t find any candy bars or sugar.” Sam added to his own argument. “Not even equal.”

Dean glanced away from his brother to mumble underneath his breath, “That’s probably because you missed something.”

“I don’t miss things.” Sam spat out, anger lining in his voice.

“Oh, right,” Dean mumbled, giving his brother a sarcastic smile. “‘Cause you’re Mr. Perfect.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed from his brother’s comment, “What? Are you really still pissed at me ‘cause of what the trickster did?”

“Oh, come on. You’ve been a tight ass long before that trickster showed up.” Dean retorted back.

The two of them stared at one another for the longest moment, not sure if this argument should have gone any longer. Sam opened his mouth, trying to figure out what to say next in order for this to wrap up. “Look, just..stay here with Y/N and keep an eye on the janitor. I’ll go to his place to see if I can find any actual evidence before you go barging in and staking the man!” Sam ordered at his brother, who had replied with an eyeroll of annoyance. “Just wait till, I get back, okay?”

“Hmm.” Dean quietly hummed.

“Okay?”

“Okay!”

Sam gave his brother a dirty look, tightening his grip on the handle of the metal tool box before he stormed off, leaving you and the oldest Winchester alone. casually glanced over your shoulder and out the window as you began to walk away, happy to know that you had saw him in the window like you planned all along. Hook and sink. Now all of you had to do was wait for the right time until you pulled your final trick before he could.

\+ + +

Night had fallen again; you were covering the back of the building while Dean was on guard for the front entrance. Mostly everything had been quiet for the most part around here. Dean paced the sidewalk for what felt to be the thousandth time before stopping in the middle. He glanced at the building, acknowledging the stained glass window. An idea crossed his mind again for the second time tonight. He ran a hand down his mouth before mumbling to himself, “Eh, screw this.”

He headed up the staircase and toward the building, getting ready track down this trickster himself. Dean traced back the steps where the janitor had kept most of his private stash. When he leaned over the staircase and peeked over, there was nobody around. If he wasn’t there, it meant the trickster was around somewhere else. Dean turned around and walked back up the staircase, thinking of different places of where he could find the creature.

Barely walking up the second staircase, he had pulled out the wooden stake Bobby had given all of you for protection, Dean found himself stopped in his tracks when he heard something off putting coming from down the hall. He furrowed his eyebrows when he heard a very familiar song echoing from the auditorium, the kind of song that seemed quite out of place. He didn’t know what to think. Perhaps someone was doing something that could have been innocent enough. But still, it wouldn’t have hurt to check out, just in case this could have been some sort of trap. Dean tucked the wooden stake back into his jacket and began to head cautiously to the door. When he peeked his head inside, this wasn’t exactly what he was expecting to see.

\+ + +

You stared down at your watch for what felt to be the third time in just the last few minutes. Nothing was making you itch more than to get this hunt wrapped up. You knew it would have been a risky move, but you decided to do it anyway. Pulling out your phone, you quickly texted Dean that you were going to take a sweep of the building, see if you could track and corner this trickster yourself. He seemed sort of found of you, maybe you could lure him just enough to stab the poor son of a bitch. There was enough back up, this could go as planned like you had hoped.

You sneaked into the back of the building, getting ready to take a sweep of the place to see where you could track down the janitor. When you noticed that there was almost nobody around, you were confused to hear music playing from a short distance away from where you were. This was strange, but it peaked your curiosity to see what was going on. As you headed for the auditorium and peeked your head inside, your face dropped in what you had realized was a trick.

“What the hell?” You muttered underneath your breath. You slipped past the doors, allowing them to quietly shut behind you. You walked forward to the stage, which looked like you just stepped into some tacky adult movie from the music playing in the background and the set of furniture. Furrowing your eyebrows, you turned your head to see a familiar face staring back at you with the same amount of confusion. “Wait, what the hell is going on here?”

“I don’t know.” Dean admitted, seeming more thrown off than anything about this situation.

“This is a peace offering. I’ll let you two choose of what happens next.” Nothing more than a sharp sigh escaped your lips from the familiarity of the voice. Turning around, your lips twitched into a frown when you saw the trickster himself again. He was sitting in one of the seats, his feet propped up with a loose grin spread across his lips that you were beginning to have the desire to only slap off from what he previously was hinting about. “I know what you, your brother and your pretty little girl friend do. I’ve been around for a while. Run into your kind before.“

"Well, then you know that we can’t let you just keep hurting people.” You said, shrugging your shoulders and taking a few steps forward to the man.

The trickster rolled his eyes as he threw his head back in annoyance. “Come on! Those people got what was coming to them. Hoisted on their own petards. But you, Y/N—I like you. I do. So just tell me what you want. And I’ll give it to you. Dean here seems to have himself a little preoccupied.“ You looked over your shoulder to see that there was now two scantily clad woman sitting on the bed, giving the other man nothing more than flirtatious looks. You hissed the man’s name, getting his attention back toward you. “Treat yourself, buddy. Long as you want to….Just long enough for me to move on to the next town.”

"Hmm. You know, that is definitely something to think about. A wonderful offer, really” You mumbled, pretending to think about it. You watched as he pulled out a chocolate bar from his pocket, ripping the wrapper open as he took a bite. “But I don’t think I can let you do that.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” The trickster tried threatened you. “And you know that I can.”

“Oh, I’m so scared.” You mocked him. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

“See, that’s what I like about you.” He said, snapping his fingers. “You’re a sarcastic little thing.”

“Look, man, I—I gotta tell you, I dig your style, all right?” Dean said, letting out a quiet chuckle as his attention slowly focused to the woman. You cleared your throat, loud enough for him to break his concentration once more. “And the slow-dancing alien—”

The trickster let out a laugh, throwing his head backwards from the memory. “One of my personal favorites.”

“Yeah. As much I love to continue sharing stories, see where this little party could lead.” You said, throwing your hand up in the air as you gave him a quick smile. “We can’t let you go.”

“Too bad. Like I said, I like you, Y/N and Dean. And Sam was right.” The trickster said, throwing his around a bit in the air a bit. All before his face dropped, turning himself into a threatening, serious stare. “You shouldn’t have come alone.”

Your lips stretched into a small smirk, “Well, I agree with you there.”

With that being said, your eyes drifted up to the top of the auditorium to see Sam and Bobby standing next the entrances. You dropped your attention down to the trickster, seeing that he didn’t seem to notice this change of plans. “That fight you guys had outside—that was a trick?” He asked, you innocently shrugged your shoulders before giving him a playful wink, knowing that it was your own idea. “Hmm. Not bad. But you want to see a real trick?“

You reached a hand inside your jacket to pull out the stake, not seeming to think him just slowly putting his hand up in the air as much of a threat. But when he snapped his fingers, the sound of a chainsaw echoed in your ears. You barely had time to look over your shoulder to see something that looked like it was straight out of a horror movie before you threw your body to the ground, trying to get out of harm’s way quick enough. Everything after that seemed to have only erupted in chaos. Dean tried to get the creature itself when the rest of you were being preoccupied with Leatherface himself. But it seemed those women were looking for a good time, after all, just not in the way he was expecting before.

You barely got yourself to your hands and knees before you trying to dodge yet another swipe of the chainsaw. Sam jumped into the action and tried to tackle the other creature, but that only landed in more of a mess. You stumbled to your feet and tried to think of what to focus on. Dean was currently being tossed around like a rag doll on a bunch of women, while Bobby and Sam were fighting with something else. A pounding headache was beginning to form from the amount of stress you were going through. What the hell do you do?

"Y/N, move!”

Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes widened in surprise when you saw Dean coming straight at you, flying across the room. Yet again, you had to throw yourself across the room to keep yourself from being attacked. Dean landed face first into the seats, making him taken out from the amount of pain that he was feeling. You eyes dropped toward the stake that Sam had dropped himself toward, but your attention shifted upwards. The trickster was now standing up in his seat, obviously seeming to have had enough of this little fight he was growing bored of. And he knew what you were about to do. You nervously swallowed, wondering the outcome for this situation.

“Y/N.” He repeated your names a few more, seeming to realize you were eying the stake for the past few seconds. You inched toward the wood, getting ready to catch it when you saw Sam toss it toward your direction. Let the trickster talk to himself, arrogance had gotten here in the first place, and it was going to be the death of him. “I did not want to have to do this.”

You got to your feet and shook your head, your grip tightening around the wood. Before he could manage to do another trick, you took your chance, lodging the wooden stake directly into his chest like Bobby had instructed. You watched as his eyes widened in the direction of how everything had turned out, you pushed harder. “Well, I sure did.” You hissed underneath your breath. When you knew it was in deep enough, you quickly ripped out the wood and watched as his body fell back to the chairs, going limp. Letting out a breath, you heard the reave of the chainsaw one more time before it disappeared, and a few moments later, so did the women.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you were happy to know that everything was finally over. Bobby and Sam came over as Dean managed to get himself back up on his feet, seeming to have only suffered a few bruises and a busted up lip. “You guys okay?” Dean asked, pressing a hand to his head from the concussion he probably was going to suffer through from the blow to the head.

“Yeah.” Sam mumbled his eyes seeming stuck on the dead body. “I guess.”

“All I got to say…he had style.” Dean mumbled, you rolled your eyes. Pushing him lightly, you made him head for the stairs. “Ooh.” He groaned in pain, obviously suffering from serious bruises.

You and the boys ran out of the building faster than ever. You knew it was going to be a matter of time before someone was going to discover that dead body, and that meant police. You pushed open the doors to the front entrance and flew down the stairs as fast as you could. But of course, you knew the brothers had to pick the worse time to be sentimental about the extra help on this case. Rolling your eyes, all you focused on was the Impala parked just a few feet away.

“Bobby, thanks a lot.” Sam said, trying to be nice.

“Hey, save it!” Bobby cut the boy off. “Let’s just get the hell out of dodge before someone finds that body.”

You headed for the backseat of the car, opening up the door and slipping yourself with Bobby on your trail. When you closed the door, you let out a sharp sigh from what was keeping the brothers so long. “Look, Dean, um…” Sam, being the one to apologize at the worst time, was at it again. “I just wanted to say that I’m, uh…”

“Hey.” Dean seemed to have knew what his brother was saying. “Me too.”

“You guys are breaking my heart.” You were now standing next to the oldest brother’s side, leaning against the open car door. “Could we please just leave? Now?”

Slipping yourself back into the car and slamming the door shut, you heard Sam let out an amused chuckle before the brothers followed in your lead. When everyone was safe in the car, Dean turned on the engine and slammed on the gas, you and the brothers having the last laugh. Ding, dong, the trickster is dead. Everything seems to be right with the world for a moment.

…Or so you thought. Let’s just say the moral of the story is this; don’t try to trick a trickster. Sometimes they have a neat trick up their own sleeve you’ll never really see coming.


	16. Roadkill.

Driving down a deserted road in the middle of the night seemed to have made you more cautious than the previous amount of times before. Of course, there wasn’t a hefty amount of pressure like there was now. It was around midnight, the mark of a new day. A light rainfall had just began a little while ago, mixing well from the lasting ice and snow scattered around from the abandoned woods to accumulating on the blacktop. You bundled deeper into your jacket and scarf for warmth. Despite the heat being on full blast, making the Impala almost feel like an oven, you were still stuck with a shiver you couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was because you’d haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a few days from all the research you’d been doing.

There was only about six hours before the sun was going to rise. Dean has been driving for at least an hour now, circling this entire back roads, looking for something. Sam was sitting in the passenger’s side like always, a flashlight in his one hand as he continued filling information to his brother, trying to fill in the small gaps from the lack of answers that seemed to have been popping up. You were about to lean yourself closer to the front seat, that was, until your eyes curiously drifted up to the road as you began to wonder where you were.

It was mostly just an empty road from what you could see; the headlights were picking up the rain that was now turning to snow. You were about to focus your attention back on the younger brother, but something like a large shadow crossed your vision. Furrowing your eyebrows in slight confusion, you glanced over to your right when you saw the figure move again. This time, dashing to the middle of the road. And straight into the line of the Impala. Before you realized it, you could feel yourself screaming the older brother’s name in fright, causing him to jerk forward. But it was enough for him to snap back into reality and focus on what was happening.

“Holy—!” Dean yelled at the top of his lungs, managing to notice a woman frantically waving her arms around as her screams began to echo through the night air. He slammed his foot on the breaks, causing all of you to roughly shift forward. You steadied yourself by placing your hands on the front seat, letting out a small oomph escape your lips from slamming into the cushioned seats. All of you were still for a moment, shock still running in your brain from what had nearly unfolded.

You stared at the woman for the longest time; she was standing just a foot from the car, her body physically shaking from the near accident that almost had unfolded. She took in a few deep breaths, finding relief when she noticed the luck she was granted with. “You’ve got to help me.” She managed to say. Stumbling toward the passenger’s side of the car, she made it toward the window where she then began pounding on the glass and frantically shouting, “Please. Please!”

Sam quickly rolled down his window, getting it down just enough for him to communicate with the woman, who was now seeming to panic more with each moment that passed. “All right, all right. Calm down, calm down.” He started off in a soothing tone, allowing the woman to take a few deep breaths when she realized all of you were here to listen and help. “Tell us what happened.”

You pushed the backseat door open when you saw an open wound on her head and blood on the collar of her jacket, probably from whatever she had endured. All of you were now standing out in the cold, listening to the details of what happened to this woman. She had been driving down this same road, lost and confused with her husband. But things had turned a bit sour when she got distracted. “I—I swerved, a-and we crashed.” She tried to explain, her voice was still shaky as she stuttered out her words slightly. “And when I came to, the car was wrecked and my husband was missing.” From that small detail she gave you, it almost sounded familiar. You glanced over at the brothers for a moment to see if they noticed the similarity of the story you were chasing. “I went looking for him, but that’s when the man from the road, he—he started chasing me.”

“Did he look like he lost a fight with a lawn mower?” Dean threw out a question, making you and Sam stare at him with discomfort. All though, it could also have been used as a comic relief, knowing there had been lots of horror movies where killers were mutilated humans looking for their next kill. And this place seemed like a perfect setting to lure out a possible next victim. You shifted your footing around, a nervous habit as you waited for her to speak again.

The woman’s face scrunched up from the familiarity of details, it send a bad shiver down her spine. “How did you know that?” She questioned the man.

Dean almost looked like a deer in headlights from her question. But he quickly saved himself from anymore speculation when he flashed her a crooked smile. “Lucky guess.”

“Ma'am,” You directed her attention toward you for a moment. You needed to know if this was her, the suspense was killing you to find out. “What’s your name?”

“Molly.” She answered. “Molly McNamara.”

“Molly, look, I think maybe you should come with us.” Sam offered, continuing to be calm and, at the most, helpful with remaining civil toward her. “We’ll take you back into town.”

“I can’t.” She mumbled, shaking her head as she shot down the offer with an excuse you knew was coming. It happened from other people’s own encounters. But if she left, you knew the chances of getting this hunt closed were slim to none. “I have to find David. He might have gone back to the car.”

Sam, still being the one with words, tried his hardest to get the woman from leaving. He remained calm and helpful, seeming to almost make her believe that he wanted to help her. And in a way, he really did. “We should get you somewhere safe first.” He said. “Then Dean, Y/N and I will come back. We’ll look for your husband.”

“No. I’m not leaving here without him.” She said, her voice hardening with a protective nature when she thought about her husband and the danger he could be in. “Would you just take me back to my car, please?”

The brothers exchanged a few glances at one another for a few moments, wondering if this was a good idea. You could feel the pressure beginning to sink lower on your shoulders when you felt the two pair of eyes slowly drag over to you. As you glanced over at the frightened woman, somewhat of a forced smile spread across your lips, not sure if you were doing the right thing. But you had no other plan of action.

“Of course.” You mumbled, giving the woman a sympathetic smile. Play the role just right and maybe she would make it out safely. As you grabbed the backseat door handle, you felt someone’s hand softly wrap around your wrist, stopping you from moving. You glanced up to see that Dean’s gaze was on the stranger, who was heading in the back with you. It seemed that he still wasn’t convinced this was a good idea. “She fits the description and her story matches. This is our chance.”

He stared at you for another second before you felt his hand drop back toward his side, following in your actions by sliding himself into the car. You shifted around in the backseat, cranking your head to the side so you could give the woman one more smile before turning your attention to the road. You heard the engine roar back to life and off went the car, heading to the crash sight.

\+ + +

Fifteen minutes passed until Dean swerved the car off to the right, slowing down when he saw Molly’s arm point toward an empty patch of woods. When the engine stopped, you pushed open the backseat door and slid out, allowing the other woman to follow in lead when she poke her head out, wanting to make sure this was the right place. The ghostly pale color that settled across her face seemed enough of an indication that she remembered exactly where she crashed.

You slammed the door shut and dug a hand inside your jacket pocket, fetching out your flashlight and turning it on when Molly was brave enough to track through the snow in her heels. She made it down a steep hill as her eyes examined the area, her face dropped into a confused expression. Your flashlight showed nothing but an empty field of woods, no traces of a car crash or someone else wandering through the snow appeared. There was no broken branches or tire tracks. Your attention shifted from the ground to Molly. She was staring at the sight with growing concern and confusion from what she had left. It was almost beginning to look like she was crazy. Molly looked over her shoulder, making direct eye contact with the brothers.

“I don’t understand. I’m sure this is where it was.” She mumbled, turning her gaze back toward the woods. From the subtle details of the weeds and surrounding trees, there seemed to have been no evidence of any sort of crash that recently happened. Molly pointed at a tall oak tree just across the way. “W-We hit that tree right there. This—This doesn’t make any sense.”

Molly began treading down the dead leaves and snow, going directly toward the tree where she thought her car would have been. You let out a nervous sigh, glancing up from the woman to the miles of deserted land around you. “Dean, we got to get out of here.” Sam mumbled, knowing the possible threat that was quietly lingering around. “Greely could show up at any second.”

“What are you gonna tell her?” Dean questioned his brother.

Sam shrugged, “The truth.”

“Oh, that’s a brilliant plan. Let’s just scare the crap out of her.” You whispered, your tone of voice lined with sarcasm from the illogical plan that would only end in disaster. “She’s only gonna take off running in the other direction.”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I crashed into that tree. I don’t know who could’ve taken it. It was totaled.” Molly spoke up, trying to explain herself. You bit the inside of your cheek as you cautiously looked around one more time. “Please. You have to believe me.”

“Molly, listen, we do believe you.” Sam said. “But that’s why we want to get you out of here.”

The woman glanced away from the trees and back at the three of you, still clutching onto her husband and the thought of being out there all alone. “What about David? Something must have happened. I have to get to the cops.”

“Cops,” Dean repeated the word with almost joy when the thought came to him. It seemed like the perfect idea to lure her to safety. “You know, that’s a great idea. We’ll take you down to the station ourselves. So just come with us. It’s the best way we can help you and your husband.”

Moly still seemed hesitant to join the three of you again; her gaze drifted back toward the woods one more time. She scanned the area to see if she could find her car, but when she had saw nothing but the same old scene, she let out a quiet sigh. “Okay.” She whispered, nodding her head. You placed out a hand to help her up from the steep slope, making sure she didn’t lose her footing on the wet ground and fall flat on her face. It might have no mattered if she hurt herself, but it was better to play along and hope this plan was going to get you across the town border.

\+ + +

You sat in the backseat of the Impala with your hands shifted in your lap, awkwardly twiddling your thumbs around as the passing of scenery kept your attention. All of you had some time until you would see the sign for the next city, you were anxious to see what happened. Maybe there was some lucky chance this would work out smoothly, or knowing your chances, this might be messier than you wanted. But you were broken away from your thoughts when Molly spoke up, cutting the silence as she spoke about the moments before her accident.

“We’re supposed to be in Lake Tahoe.” She whispered, you glanced over at her.

“You and David?” You curiously asked.

“It’s our five year anniversary.” She answered. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from saying the right date. The number twenty crossed your mind for the years they would have been together. But you gave her a weak smile, nodding your head as you listened.

“Hell of an anniversary.” Dean muttered underneath his breath causing you to kick the back of his seat from the unnecessary comment. The smallest smile spread across Molly’s lips.

“Right before, we were having the dumbest fight.” Molly sighed, recollecting on the memory. “It was the only time we ever really argued when we were stuck in the car.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a chuckle, glancing over at the woman sitting next to you as you nodded your head to the front seat “Yeah. I know how that goes.” You mumbled as the glare from Dean went unnoticed.

“You know the last time I said to him? I called him a jerk.” Molly almost seemed like she was talking to herself now as she began to panic. “Oh, God. What if that’s…What if that’s the last thing I said to him?”

Sam shifted around in his seat as the sound of squeaky leather echoed in your ears. “Molly.” He spoke in a soft tone, drawing the woman’s attention back toward him. “We’re gonna figure out what happened to your husband. I promise.”

All though the moment of hope seemed to have died from the sound of frequency static coming from the Impala’s radio. Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned in closer to see what was going on. “…They call the rising sun. And it’s been the ruin…” 

“Did you—” You pointed a finger at Sam, but he shook his head.

“No.” He answered quickly.

“Great. I was afraid you’d say that.” Dea muttered underneath his breath.

Molly cautiously began to lean forward to hear the song a bit more clearly. It took only a few seconds of listening to know where it was from. “This song.” She whispered. “It was playing when we crashed.”

Your face dropped in hearing those words as you glanced over at the brothers with a slight panicked expression. But your eyes slowly drifted back toward the radio when you watched as the red needle began shifting back and forth as the static continued on. All before a male voice came on the other end, making a bad feeling sit in your stomach.

“She’s mine.” He chanted. His voice grew more with sadistic glee. “She’s mine. She’s mine.”

“What is that?” Molly asked with fear.

All though when all of you glanced up at the road, she got her answer. Standing in the middle of the blacktop was the exact same man Molly had hit. But he wasn’t afraid of what could possibly happen next, he wanted the car to swerve off the road and crash. And neither was Dean. Your nails dug into the front seats when the man slammed his foot against the gas petal, sending the Impala’s engine roaring to life like you’ve never heard before. The tires screeched against the pavement, almost threatening to skid off the road. But this car was made for this sort of adventure. The target was the man, and it was ready to run the pedestrian over.

“What are you doing?!” Molly nearly screamed in your ear from how close she was to you.

The Impala was going well above the speed limit, making everything pass by in just a blink of an eye. As you got closer toward the mutilated man, you held your breath and watched for what happened next. As the car went barreling toward him and threatened to crush the interior, nothing of that sort happened. He just disappeared into a fog of black smoke. You quickly glanced over your shoulder and looked through the back window to see if the man was still there. But he was gone. Molly was shaking with fear, her eyes nearly bulging out of her head as she began to frantically look to see if she could find the same stranger she crashed into before.

“What the…” She mumbled to what felt like herself for a moment before she found her voice again. “What the hell just happened?”

“Don’t worry, Molly. Everything’s gonna be alright.” Sam said, trying to calm the woman.

But the words seemed to have died right after that left his mouth from the next thing that happened. Your stomach began to tighten when the familiar sounds of the engine began to sputter, making Dean shift the car off the road. “Spoke a little too soon, Sammy.” When the car touched the sludge covered street, that’s when the headlights turned off and the wheels stopped moving altogether. The oldest brother tried getting the engine to come back to life, turning the key a few times, but all you heard was the whizzing attempts before it died down to silence that pierced your ringing ears.

You sank down in your seat, slowly beginning to realize your worst fears were about to come true. You glanced over at the woman sitting right across from what you heard Dean say next. “I don’t think he’s gonna let her leave.” You knew exactly what he meant by that. And it didn’t leave a good feeling for the safety for the rest of you, either.

\+ + +

Hesitantly, you pushed open the backseat door and scanned the dark highway, your eyes squinted when you saw something moved in the shadows, but your body calmed down when you noticed that it had been just a deer probably wandering for food. You turned your gaze toward the front seats of the car, giving the brothers a quick nod to know the coast was clear for now. You kicked your legs to the pavement and got out, before making sure to stand off to the side for Molly to follow in your actions. She seemed just as frightened as you were before to step out as her attention scanned each inch of the outside while stumbling out of the car.

“This can’t be happening.” Molly said, fear lined in her words as she realized the bad luck that seemed to have been following her around on this very night. You slammed the car door shut and shoved your hands inside your jacket pocket, knowing everything was going as planned.

“Well, trust me. It’s happening.” Dean didn’t seem to be in the mood to try and sugar coat everything for the woman. He focused his attention on getting everyone prepared for the hunt that was to be continued. One plan failed, now it was time to move on toward the next.

You took a few steps toward the trunk when you saw it pop open, not seeming to think much about the secret stash of weapons and different tools that seemed only natural for a hunter to have. But as you turned your head to see how Molly was doing, you were quick to notice a gaze spreading across her face that didn’t seem good. Her eyes widened a bit more as her jaw began to slack. You tried to think of a proper response of how to explain everything, but you watched as the woman began to slowly take a few steps backwards on the highway. it seemed that she was thinking that man might have been more friendlier than the freaks riding around with all this heavy duty luggage. You bit the inside of your cheek, glancing over at Sam for help.

“Okay. Thanks for helping, but I think I got it covered from here.” Molly began, taking a few steps farther and farther away from all of you.

“Wait. Molly,” Sam slowly followed after the woman. “Molly, wait a minute.”

“Just leave me alone.” She said, her tone had dropped toward a whisper you barely could hear. Molly’s shook her head in discomfort.

“No. Please. You have to listen to me.” He still tried to explain what was going on, but she wasn’t having it. But she mumbled out another threat of wanting to be alone. As you watched her turn around and start heading down the road, you found yourself blurting out the truth before you could stop yourself from scaring her even more. But you knew there wasn’t a chance she was going to survive there out on her own.

“It wasn’t a coincidence that we found you, all right?” You shouted just enough for her to hear. She stopped in her tracks as you heard Dean’s boots crunch underneath the slush.

Molly turned around and looked at you, as if you had just said one of the most peculiar expressions she’d ever heard. “What are you talking about?” She asked you.

“We weren’t cruising for chicks when we ran into you, sister.” Dean said, walking so he was just a step ahead from where you and Sam were standing. “We were already out here hunting.”

Molly forced herself to speak, the curiosity getting the best of her. “Hunting for what?”

You and Sam glanced over at one another for a second, wondering what the proper response could have been for the woman. But your mouth hung open for a moment before your lips stretched into a disapproving frown from the answer that slipped out from Dean’s mouth, it seemed that he was happy being nothing but blunt. “Ghosts.” You gave him a look, which he brushed off as you watched him head back toward the trunk.

“D—D—Don’t…sugarcoat it for her.” Sam stumbled out the word, seeming shocked from what just happened so quickly. Normally there was a few lines about explaining there was supernatural creatures out there, none of you were alone in this world. But there was a time crunch, Dean just wanted to get the script cut down.

“You’re nuts.” Molly mumbled, denying what she had just heard.

“Really? About as nuts as a vanishing guy with his guts spilling out.” Dean was at it again, deciding that his attitude toward this hunt was nothing but blunt and honest truth. Molly crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the man, knowing that he was nothing but right on the matter. But she kept herself silent. “You know what you saw.”

Your eyes wandered on the older man as he headed back for the trunk, getting supplies and other things ready for the next plan and things to protect from whatever was out there. “Sorry about that. He’s normally not a huge dick.” You tried to crack a joke, forcing a weak smile at the woman. But it faltered slightly when she didn’t even try to break from the walls she had built up from the three of you. Letting out a quiet sigh, you decided to calm her down with some more truth. “We think his name is Jonah Greely. He was a local farmer that died fifteen years ago on this highway.”

“Just stop.” Molly murmured as she glanced away from you. But you knew you couldn’t.

“One night a year, on this anniversary of his death, he haunts this road.” You said, taking a few steps forward. “That’s why we’re here, Molly. To try and stop him.”

“Now, I suppose this ghost made my car disappear, too.” Molly replied with a sarcasm overtone. You knew that might have been a good sign. She didn’t think all of you were going to kill her, which meant there was hope.

“Crazier things have happened.” Dean was back into the conversation. He took a few steps forward from the trunk, giving his brother a light smack on the shoulder and throwing you a playful wink, which you brushed off with an eyeroll. “Huh?”

“You know what? I’m all filled up on crazy.” A small chuckle escaped her throat as she barely made a smile. You watched as she began to take a few steps farther away from you all. “I’m gonna get to the cops myself.”

“I don’t mean to be harsh,” Dean spoke up again, stopping the woman in her tracks from what he said next. It almost sounded like a threat to her. “but I don’t think you’re gonna get too far.”

Molly stand still for a few moments, her back is still turned toward the three of you. “What is that supposed to mean?” She asks. Her voice is barely louder than a whisper.

“Means that plan ‘A’ was trying to get you out of here.” Dean says, explaining the truth to her, letting her know that all of you were here to only help. She turns around and looks at the man straight in the eye. “Obviously that didn’t go over too well with, uh,” He points a thumb over his shoulder, “Farmer Roadkill

Sam takes a few steps forward toward the woman, who seems to be only growing more wonder if you’re all not just pulling her leg. “Molly, we’re telling the truth. Greeley’s not gonna let you leave this highway.” He said. The tone of his voice was gentle, but yet, full of seriousness.

“You’re s—” Molly speaks up again as she finally turns around so she’s standing right across from Sam. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Deadly.”

You want to scold the older man for such a comment, but you know it’s the truth. A small moment of silence fall over you, but you look at the woman. You need to tell her as much as you can about this hunt. All though, some of it would be filled up with lies. “Every year, Greeley finds someone to punish for what happened to him.” You explain. You pause for a moment before saying, “Tonight that person is you.”

“Why me?” She questions you. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble. “Some spirits only see what they want.”

Molly crosses her arms around her body tighter as she remains silent for another moment. As she begins to think, a thought comes back into her mind. You know it’s not the truth, but you let her think whatever it is for this hunt to go smoothly. “So you’re saying this Greeley, he took my husband?” She asks. You know that’s not true, but you bite your tongue. “Oh, God.”

“Molly, look, we’re gonna help, all right?” Sam said. The woman sniffles a few times, but she nods her head in understanding. “But first, you gotta help us.”

“Help you?” She asks. “How?”

\+ + +

If the legend had been correct from what the research had told you, Greeley had ended everything back at his cabin, a small little shack that he used as an old hunting grounds. The problem was, none of the records in town hall or the libraries that you’d previously searched through had any documents on where it was hidden away. You were hoping that Molly could lead you to where it was. Luckily she seemed to have been brave enough to track through the woods, remembering it almost perfectly as you and the brothers followed behind.

“This is it.” Molly said, peeking her head inside the abandoned looking cabin to see if there was anyone inside. But a sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw it was quiet and empty. “This is where I saw him.”

Dean is the first one to step inside the cabin; he examines the gritty details of hunting knives lining the walls and rusty chains hanging from the ceiling. His flashlight reflects the place, which is nothing more than trashed. But it must have been from the elements and cold weather. There looked to have been not much human activity like you would see in other abandoned buildings. No empty beer cans or spray bottles from teenagers. “Must have been his hunting cabin.” He says, walking further into the small home. When he spots an empty table that was stained with dried blood, he makes a remark underneath his breath. “Huh. Seemed like a real sweet guy.”

You and Sam step inside the cabin after searching the grounds to see if there was any normal indication that there could have been a body buried here. A lot of people, someone like Greeley, might have wanted to have stuck close to home. Or the one place they could really be themselves. Your eyes trail over the sadistic looking interior design. You wondered if this wasn’t for the furry creatures that he’d hunted during the seasons. It sure would do a lot of damage to someone higher up on the food chain, that was for sure.

“No marks or headstones outsides.” Sam announces, examining the cabin himself.

“You’re looking for Greeley’s grave?” Molly asked. You pulled your attention away from the bloody worktable toward the woman, you nodded your head. “Why?”

“So we can dig up the corpse and salt and burn it.” Dean said, looking over his shoulder.

“Oh.” Molly said, seeming taken back from that explanation. “Sure. Naturally.”

“It’s a way to get rid of a spirit.” You added another detail, hoping not to scare her again. 

“And that’ll save David?” She asks you.

“This is what’ll help both of you,” Sam said. “Provided there’s a corpse to be found.”

“So how do we find it?” Molly asks the million dollar question of the night.

You let out a sigh, scratching your forehead with a free hand. “Uh, we’re not sure. After Greeley died, his wife claimed the body. And that was the last anyone saw of her. So good guess she brought him back here.” You explained the situation that was causing the bump in the road for completing this hunt. Well, one of them. “But they had a thousand acres. He could be buried anywhere on ‘em.”

“This is really what you guys do.” She said, seeming to be taken back by everything. You shrugged your shoulders, knowing this was just a small part of being a hunter. But her similarity made a small chuckle escape your throat. “You’re like the Ghost Busters.”

“Yeah. Minus the jumpsuits.” Dean remarked, turning his attention away from the cabin. He walked over toward the three of you. “Look, lady, this is a fascinating conversation and all. But this conversation is only haunted once a year, and we got till sunup to wrap this up. What do you say we move it along, okay? Great.” 

You gave the woman a sympathetic smile for how impatient the older brother had become. You trailed behind the man, leaving Sam to stick with Molly. Walking down the cabin steps, Dean was spotted not far from walking away in his search of finding a dead boy. Your shoes crunched underneath the dead leaves as you navigated through bare branches until a hand reached out and placed it on his shoulder, stopping him from moving any further. You watched as jump slightly from the touch, but when he saw it was just you, settled down a bit. But, all before you reached up and smacked him roughly against his arm.

“Why are you such a jerk?” You ask him. Before you give him enough time to think of an answer, you give him one that seems good enough in your mind. “Oh, yeah. Because you’re too stupid to realize that she’s only chance at getting this hunt wrapped up. Would it kill you to be a little bit nice?”

Suddenly a piercing scream erupted through the night air, sending your head twisting toward the woods, wondering where it had come from. It took you a second to realize it had come from Molly. “No.” You heard Dean mumble, swinging the duffel bag off his shoulder and unzip it. He pulled out a shotgun. “But it helps us from being gutted like a fish.”

You open your mouth to say something else, but before the first one came out, the man was off, disappearing through the fog and empty tree branches. You rolled your eyes and bent down to grab the bag up from the floor. The sound of an owl hooting in the background made you look down at your watch to see what time it was; five hours until sunrise. You swung the duffel bag up and followed the sound of a gunshot that echoed through the empty woods.

After a minute of walking, you found Molly stumbling up from the ground, horror in her eyes from what she had witnessed. You reached out a hand to help pull her up from the cold ground. You hear the sound of branches breaking and leaves crunching. You flash a light on Sam, who comes running up from the clearing to see what the fuss was all about. He takes notice in the gun lingering in his brother’s hand that is still warm from the fresh shot and Molly’s shaking body.

“Hey! Are you alright?” Sam asks, glancing around to see where Greeley could have gone.

“What has that son of a bitch done with my husband?” Molly questions all of you with anger.

“Just take it easy, all right? You’re gonna see David again.” Sam reminds the woman. “You will.”

“Hey.” Dean speaks up, sending all three heads toward him, wondering what he discovered. You see that his flashlight is pointing out an open path, probably man made from the lack of weeds you could see around. “Follow the creepy brick road.”

You toss over the duffel back toward Deen after your shoulder begins to ache. He takes the lead after exchanging the baggage. You look over your shoulder to see that Molly is behind you and Sam is the last one in line. As you focus your attention back on the path in front of, you found yourself eavesdropping on the simple questions Molly found herself asking the younger brother.

“That thing shoots rock salt?” Molly asks with almost disbelief. Sam mumbles out a yes. “And plain salt keeps spirits away?” You want to mention that it works like a charm for demons, too. But that is another conversation that you don’t plan on discussing with someone like her.

“Simple remedies are always the best.” Sam explains to the woman. “In most cultures, salt is a symbol of purity, so it repels impure and unnatural things. Same reason you throw it over your shoulder.”

You put your attention back toward the path; all of you kept walking for another minute or so through the woods until you stumbled upon another abandoned looking home. “You know, just once I’d like to round the corner and see a nice house.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath.

You let out a quiet scoff from his hopes as you examined the area to see if there was anything suspicious around before stepping up to the porch. As the brothers examined the outside, you peeked inside with your flashlight to see if there was anything suspicious around. The only bad thing you could make out was just trash and perhaps a few rats. So, you opened up the front door and stepped inside, keeping it open long enough for Molly and Sam to follow your lead.

The door slammed behind as you continued your search through the home. Mostly everything was worn down from years of abandonment or animals picking and tearing apart what they could find before scurrying back for hibernation. You looked over your shoulder to see that Deen had come back from his search. Out of curiosity you asked, “Any headstones outside?”

Dean let out a chuckle, throwing the bag to the couch. “Yeah, right. Is it ever that easy?”

You let out a quiet sigh and nod your head, knowing that he was right about that point. You kept your attention on the living room for a few moments as you watched from the corner of your eye as Dean made his way round toward the kitchen. Sam and you slowly made your way to the next room with Molly trailing on your heels like a lost puppy. As you reached out for a piece of paper that almost looked to be a document, your eyes trailed up when you heard the older speak up. But from what he said, it was a commandment.

“You and Y/N check upstairs. See if you can find any notes or records telling his where he’s buried.” Deen suggests. You throw the paper toward the table again and nod your head. On this kind of hunts, the man wants to be by himself. No subtle distractions to keep him from solving out the problem that all of you had little time to figure out. “I’ll Just check down here.”

Sam takes the lead on this one; you and Molly follow after you wag a finger for her to join. You can hear the wood creak and bend underneath the weight that of you put on. You almost fear that you would fall through after you can feel a deep indent in the middle step. But all of you safely make it up and head for the first bedroom you see. Sam cautiously heads for the door with the shotgun ready to aim if necessary. After taking a sweep of the room, he drops the gun to his side and lets out a small sigh. You step to his side and take a quick peek at the room.

“Great.” You mumble underneath your breath. “Old man Greeley sure was a slob.”

Documents and old papers are spread across the floors, making it hard to know what was trash and what could have been important enough to help. You started by bending down and grabbing a stack full of thick papers you saw sitting right across from a bed. You brushed off some dust and sat yourself down, flicking through the papers. Sam crouched toward the papers and began to search through them himself. Molly walked over to the other side of the room and tried searching herself, finding any reason to be of help. She picked up a heavy book and peeked around. It seemed that she stumbled upon an old photo album.

“Look at this. It’s Greeley and his wife.” She says, heading over to you and sits on the bed. The both of you spend a few moments flipping through the pages to see someone had put effort in making this. Special photographs of the young lovers and their land were spread around. And it seemed that the old man was fond of the woman, writing her special notes she had kept and cherished. “It’s a love letter he wrote her. My God, it’s beautiful.”

“Seems that Greeley was a bit of a romantic in his time.” You mumble, giving the woman a smile after the both of you read the letter together. “Sure knows a way with words.”

“I don’t understand how a guy like this can turn into that monster.” Molly remarks.

You turn your attention away from the photographs and at the woman. “Spirits like Greeley are like wounded animals. They’re lost, in so much pain, that they lash out.”

“Why?” She asks, pushing you for more answers. “Why are they here?”

“Well, there’s some part of them that keeps them here. Like their remains or, um…” You glance away from Molly and at the album, flipping to another page. “Unfinished business.”

“Unfinished business?” Molly repeats after you. You nod your head.

“Yeah. It could be revenge. It could be love. Or hate.” Whatever it is, they just hold on too tight. They can’t let go. So they’re trapped.” You explain to her, but then the thought pops into your mind. You look at the woman, knowing what this was all about. “Caught in the same loop. Replaying the same tragedies over and over.”

“You sound almost sorry for them.” Molly says.

You shrug your shoulders. “Well, they weren’t evil people, you know? A lot of them were good. Just…something bad happened to them. Something they couldn’t control.”

The floorboards squeaking across the room sent your head flying to see who it was. Your body relaxed when you saw it was just Dean, who had seemed to come up empty handed from his own search. “Y/N’s always getting a little J. Love Hewitt when it comes to things like this.” He remarks, making you roll your eyes and focus your attention back to the album. “Me, I don’t like ‘em. And I sure as hell ain’t making apologies for ‘em.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I was just explaining how a vengeful spirits comes about.” You mumble, slamming the book shut. “After all, you should know pretty damn well how they work.”

Dean’s face scrunched up from what you mumbled underneath your breath. You give the man a look, wondering what he was up here for. “There’s nothing downstairs. You find anything?”

“Uh, just about every piece of mail or receipt they ever had.” Sam said, getting up from the ground and tossing a piece of papers back toward the ground. “Looked through a couple, but nothing about a grave so far.”

Deen walked across the room before settling on a dresser, his attention seemed focused on something else, not seeming to acknowledge what his brother had said. “What is it?”

“There’s something behind here.” Dean mumbled. He nodded his head at his brother before tossing the gun toward him. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as he then shoved the dresser over as if it was nothing, revealing a padded up hiding space. He walked over before crouching down, pressing his hand against the wood to see it would budge from a little pressure, but it remained as it was. “It’s lock from the inside.” 

Dean got up from the ground and faced his back to the wall. He tested the strength and kicked, but it wasn’t enough for the wood to even budge. You let out a quiet scoff, “Try a little harder next time, princess.” You mumbled underneath your breath. A few seconds later, his leg kicks back and slams his foot against the wood, hard enough this time for the door to swing open.

You are the first one at his side to bend down and see what you could find. The both of you peek inside to see that the small passageway is big enough for everyone to fit. All though what keeps you from moving any farther is the amount of spiderwebs. When you turn your head to Dean, half of a smirk spreads across his lips. “Ladies first.”

\+ + +

You balanced yourself on your hands and knees; you were staring at the mess of cobwebs and dust that dangled from the ceiling. A small breeze of wind coming from the other room made you breathe in a musty mixture of mothballs and rotting bodies, a familiar smell from the dozen times of digging up dead bodies. Your nose scrunched up as you forced yourself to go forward. A free hand snatched the gun from Sam, knowing it was the longest piece of weapon you had to knock away the debris. You crawled through the space until you managed to get yourself on your feet again.

“Ew.” You heard Dean mumbled underneath his breath. Rolling your eyes, you took notice of the objects that were scattered around the floor, that were also covered in a thick amount of dust or dirty white sheets. Molly and Sam followed behind and got themselves into the room. As you began to go deeper into the room, you took notice of that lingering smell, it was becoming stronger. “Smells like old lady in here.”

You stepped farther into the room with your flashlight wandering around to see where that odor could have been coming from. Your eyes trailed over toward a skeleton with remaining white hair still dangling from its skull. A sigh escaped your lips, knowing she had hung herself. “And that would explain why.” You whispered, watching from the corner of your eye as everyone came to see what you had found. Molly lingered in the background as Sam walked further toward the woman’s dangling body. “Well, now we know why nobody ever saw her again.”

“She didn’t want to leave without him.” Molly whispered. You looked over your shoulder, staring at her for a few moments. You made yourself focus on something else when she caught you.

Sam examined the woman’s decomposed body for a few moments. “Dean, give me a hand.” He instructed, bending down to grab the wooden chair she had used all those years ago.

“Really?” Dean asked with almost confusion. He stared at the body with his eyebrows furrowed.

Molly looked at the two men. “What are you gonna do?”

“We can’t leave her like this.” Sam said, gesturing his arm toward the body.

“Why not?” The older brother asked again, not seeming to get the point his brother was trying to make.

“She deserves to be put to rest, Dean.” You reminded the man in a serious tone. You crossed your arms over your chest and nodded your head to the hanging woman.

Dean didn’t exactly like the idea of wasting a bit more time of getting the woman down from the rope. But with a quiet sigh, he followed through with the plan and headed up to his brother. Sam stepped up on the chair and pulled out a knife, reaching up and began cutting away at the thick rope, all before you watched as she fell right into Dean’s awaiting arms.

\+ + +

Back outside; the brothers grabbed a few shovels that just happened to be lying around and began digging Mrs. Greeley a shallow, but deep enough grave that seemed to have been modest enough for her to be put to rest. You snatched a white sheet from the bed so her body could be wrapped up. Dean was pushing himself out of the freshly dug grave when you saw Molly come back from inside the house. You gave her a small smile,dropping the flashlight toward your side.

“So, if you manage to put Greeley to rest, too,” Molly began asking a question, shoving her hands inside her pockets as she headed over toward the three of you. “What happens to them?”

You kept silent for a few moments, not knowing exactly what a proper answer could have been for that question. As you began thinking of a proper response, your attention lingered over toward Dean. “Lady, that answer is way beyond our pay grade.” He mumbled, letting out a small chuckle before he joined his brother in shoveling back up the grave.

“You hunt these things, but you don’t know what happens to them?” She asked with disbelief.

“Well, they never come back.” Dean points out, stopping for a moment. “That’s all that matters.”

Molly found herself being quiet after that answer. You shifted yourself around in your spot as you found something to stare at in the distance. Sam stopped for a moment, his gaze lingering away from the body and at the woman standing next to you. “After they let go of whatever’s keeping them here, they…they just let go.” Sam said, trying to explain to the best of his ability. “I hope someplace better, but we don’t know. No one does.”

“What happens when you burn their bones?” Molly asked, wanting to know more.

“Um, well, my dad used to say that was death for ghosts, you know?” Sam said. “But, the truth is, we still don’t know. Not for sure.” You turned your head and watched as Molly lowered herself down to the ground, seeming to have been memorized of the dirt that was beginning to grow deeper. “Guess that’s why we all hold on to life so hard. Even the dead. We’re all scared of the unknown.”

“The only thing I’m scared of is losing David. I have to see him again.” Molly whispered. You looked down at the woman, locking eyes with her for a few moments. “I have to.”

You were quiet for a second or two before you found yourself saying, “I promise. You will.”

\+ + +

With one body put to rest, you waited for her husband to show up. You paced across the room, your arms crossed over your chest as your attention wandered from each groan and creak that echoed through this old house toward everyone else that was inside. Dean was sitting on a chair, his attention kept on the outside. Sam was following in your actions, walking slowly around the room as his attention lingered over to Molly, who was keeping herself quiet by looking over at the photo album she found upstairs in the bedroom.

A sense of guilt began to creep inside your stomach when you examined her. The poor woman was chasing after a man, having no clue what was really going on. You glanced over your shoulder for a moment before turning yourself on your heels and heading over toward the older Winchester. “I think we should tell her about her husband.” You whispered, suggesting the idea.

“We can’t.” He mumbled, as if that was the end of this conversation.

“Dean, it’s cruel, letting her pine for him like this.” You hissed underneath your breath. “I don’t like keeping her in the dark.”

“It’s for her own good.” Dean said. You let out a quiet scoff at his excuse. You heard him get up from the chair, the wood squeaky from his pressure before you turned your head, seeing the man was standing right across from you. “Look, Y/N, I know you feel guilty, but let’s just stick to the plan. Let’s get her out of here than we’ll tell her.”

“Tell me what? What aren’t you telling me? ” The voice of Molly made the both of you turn your heads, seeing she was lingering in the kitchen doorway.Her fingers were wrapped nervously together. Your jaw tightened when she mentioned her husband again. “It’s about David. You know what happened to him.”

“Molly—” You tried speaking when the lying becoming too much for you.

“Y/N, don’t.” Dean hissed your name. He gave you a warning glare.

“Don’t what?” Molly questioned the both of you. You gave the man a stare, knowing he was taking this action all wrong. You waited for the fuse that was about to go on from a woman scorned. “Don’t tell me because I’ll mess up your hunt? You don’t care about me or my husband,”

“That’s not true.” You said, shaking your head at the woman.

“Really? Then whatever it is, tell me, please.” She said, almost in a pleading tone as she made her way across the room until she was standing next to the both of you. But before either one of you could argue on what if this was the right plan of action, your attention slowly shifted toward a static that was echoing in the background. You heard Sam’s footsteps coming from the other room until he was standing next to you, his flashlight on the radio coming from the other side of the room. “He’s coming.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the familiarity of the song that began to echo through the house, making you curious to see where it was coming from. You turned on your flashlight again and began walking around, listening to the familiar lyrics as they grew louder. As you stepped back into the kitchen, your eyes wandered around the room until you spotted something large across. You headed over and reached down a free hand, pulling up a dirty white sheet to see that it was an old jukebox, playing like it was brand new. But a place like this, the power was off. As you took another step forward, your shoe stepped on something strange.

Lifting up your foot, you peeked down to see that it was a wire. You bent down and picked it up to examine it; from a small tug, you looked over at the jukebox after you felt the wire tug, like it was connected to something heavy. This wasn’t a good sign. You got back up to your feet and began listening to the other sounds around you. There was the sound of Dean’s footsteps echoing through the room, your own breathing and something like…ice freezing? You found yourself soon wandering toward the front door, Dean fresh on your trail to see what you were about to discover next. Your mouth parted slightly at what you saw.

The glass window to the front door began to freeze over with a thin sheet of ice, cracking up toward the tip, but spelling out two words you clearly could make out. When you read them, you could feel a bad shiver run down your spine, knowing this wasn’t a good sign. SHE’S MINE. 

You seemed to have been so caught up in your own thoughts, wondering when Greeley was going to come to make his grand entrance, you seemed to have forgotten about the element of surprise. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the sound of glass breaking and a few seconds later, followed by Molly’s piercing screams. You didn’t need to hear Sam’s shouts that followed seconds later to follow behind the brothers, knowing all of you had precious moments before Molly disappeared from your sight, and God knows whatever Greeley had planned out for the poor woman. 

You managed to jump through the broken window without a scratch on your body at the speed you were running. Your breathing became ragged when you tried your hardest to keep up with the brothers, your flashlight bouncing in your grip as all of you made your way through the woods. As you ran deeper into the trees, you could hear nothing that could lead toward a possible clue that Molly was around. Finally, all of you stopped after another minute or so from running. You frantically searched every crack of the place to see if you could find her. But you knew she was gone, allowing this cycle to continue once more like he wanted.

\+ + +

All of you made it back to the house again, knowing the time crunch was beginning to come down. You lost Molly, and you still didn’t know where Greeley’s bones were buried. “This guy is persistent.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath, storming across the room to find anything that seemed to be a possible clue.

“We got to find Molly.” Sam reminded you all, as if that wasn’t on your mind.

“We got to find Greeley’s bones.” Dean said, his mind on the more important picture. You let out a sigh, walking over to the dining room table where Molly had the photo album open. As you glanced down, something important in a photograph in the lovers caught your attention. “And, uh, no pressure or anything, but we got less than two hours before sunrise.”

“Hey.” You called out, nodding your head for the brothers to gather ground.

Sam was at your side in the matter of seconds, Dean followed behind after he grabbed the duffel bag and saw what you had discovered. “What do you got?” He asked you.

“‘February 6, 1992.’” You mumbled, reading off the paper that was written in sharpie. Your eyes trailed down to the note that was written underneath the photograph; Marion, I love you xxx ooo more as I write this than I did last night when we spoke with deep and tender love — Jonah.

“That was like two weeks before the accident, wasn’t it?” Dean asked.

You nodded your head, your gaze still lingering on the photograph. “It looks like the hunting cabin, but…I swear there’s a tree right where they’re standing.” You mumbled to yourself. You thought about it for a few moments before a sigh escaped your lips, the idea finally hitting you. “I should have thought of it.”

“What?” Dean asked, not getting the connection.

“It’s an old country custom, Dean.” You said, explaining what was going to help solve this hunt and rescue Molly. “Planting a tree as a grave maker. We find the tree, we find his bones.”

Dean stared at you for a moment before a comment came straight out of his mouth. "You’re like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.” He mumbled. Your lips stretched into a smirk.

“You’re welcome, jackass.”

\+ + + 

Walking as quietly as you could, you followed behind the brothers as all of you made your way to the hunting cabin. You carried one of the shovels and turned your head the slightest to see the growing tree planted in the middle of the empty field, dead from the cold winter. You looked back to the cabin when you crouched down enough so you were just below the window. As you peeked up to see what was going on in curiosity, and what you found made your grip tighten. You saw Molly was being hooked up like a piece of meat; her hands were tied above her head from the hook you saw earlier, Greeley circling her like his prey.

“Go get Molly.” You mumbled, nodding your head to Dean.

You and Sam watched for a second as the oldest brother began his task before directing your attention toward the tree again. You let out a sigh and headed for the plant, knowing the both of you had little time to waste before this hunt could go wrong. You gripped the shovel and rammed the iron tip toward the dirt, taking out your first scoop with Sam following behind. The both of you worked as fast as you could, digging until you found the special prize you were looking for.

Through your pounding heart and heavy breathing from the heavy activity your body wasn’t used to, your ears perked up toward the sound of things slamming around. You nervously swallowed and threw the shovel down, grabbing the canister of salt. You yanked off the top and began pouring out a hefty amount of salt over the decomposed bones, Sam following behind and dumping out all the needed amount of gasoline.

You shoved the canister underneath your arm and pulled out the matches, taking out out. And with a quick swipe of the tip against the box, a small flame ignited. Not waiting another moment, you threw the match into the pit and watched the flame burst. A few seconds later, you heard an unfamiliar man’s scream echo through the air, giving you the signal that this was a hunt wrapped up.

\+ + +

The adrenaline that you’d been running on for hours was beginning to wear down as you trailed down the empty highway. You could feel your body beginning to relax from the hunt that was wrapped up; Molly was safe, Greeley was gone for good. You and Dean walked down the street in sync, watching as the Impala grew wider with each step that you took. A lazy grin spread across your lips, suddenly so happy to see that car in all of her glory.

“Oh, Baby,” You heard Dean mumbled underneath his breath. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as your head turned to see who he was talking to. But of course, his gaze was kept on the car, you let out a quiet chuckle as he patted the trunk. “It’s been a long night.”

You watched for a moment as Dean opened the backseat door to the Impala and chucked the bag inside before slipping himself into the driver’s side of the car. Molly and Sam soon joined the rest of you, the both of them seemed worn out themselves from tonight’s adventures.

“All right. Let’s get you out of here.” Sam said, leaning down to open the backseat door.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to my husband.” Molly said. You and Sam found yourself lost for words, not knowing how to explain this situation. “All of this time, I’ve been looking for him. And you knew that. You knew that Greeley killed him, didn’t you? He’s dead.”

You kicked a small pebble with the heel of your shoe before you glanced over at the woman. The guilt of lying to her made you blurt out the truth, faster than you could think about the consequences. “No, Molly. David’s alive.”

“What?” Molly asked with surprise. “You’re sure?”

You could see the grin that spread across her lips when you nodded your head, it made her face light up with joy. “We’re sure.” You said. “We’ll take you to him. Come on.” Molly was nothing more than a kid on Christmas, going to the one person that was on her mind all of this time. You watched as she got herself into the backseat of the car, Sam slamming the door shut behind her. When you glanced up at the man, he was staring at you.

“You sure about this, Y/N?” Sam asked, his tone was low to a whisper.

“She has a right to know. He’s the reason why she’s still here.” You mumbled. “And besides, we promised her.”

\+ + +

There was about a half an hour until dawn was going to rise; freezing rain began to softly pour down as the Impala slowly drove up to a familiar looking neighborhood all of you were used to seeing, but for Molly, she was drawn to the sight with a peculiar stare. You could see her lean forward to the front seats as she began looking around to see if she could find her house. You lifted up a finger and pointed at one right across the street, the one with the lights on. She followed where you were gesturing towards. But her brows furrowed, not recognizing it.

“He’s in that house right there.” You said, dropping your arm back to your lap.

“I don’t understand.” Molly mumbled.

You forced yourself to look at her directly in the eye, “You will.”

Pushing open the door to the backseat, you followed behind the brothers as they exited the car themselves, you waited until Molly was out before you slammed the door shut. Before you could say anything, the woman was eagerly rushing up the pavement and on the long concrete porch to peek inside the home after discovering the lights were on and the blinds were parted halfway. A grin began to slowly grow on the ends of her lips, seeing her husband was alive and well. But her attitude faltered when she got a good look at the man’s face. He was older, he looked nothing like the man she remembered.

“That’s not…It can’t be. Molly whispered, almost in disbelief at what she was seeing. As she took a step forward, the familiarity began to sink back into her mind. You wrapped your jacket tighter around your body when you saw David’s new wife of six years, Maria, came walking right into the room, giving the man a quick kiss on the lips. Molly turned around and face the three of you. “What’s happening? Who’s that?”

You knew there was no more time to dance around the topic. She wanted to know what was going on. And you promised it to her. “That’s David’s wife.” You finally admitted the truth. Molly kept herself silent from a response, she glanced over at the window again, wanting to see this sight one more time. “I’m sorry, Molly.” She shook her head. “Fifteen years ago, you and your husband hit Jonah Greely with your car. David survived.” 

Molly took a few steps down the porch. “What are you saying?”

“We’re saying there isn’t just one spirit haunting highway forty-one. There are two.” Dean said, speaking the truth that all of you had been keeping since finding the woman. “Jonah Greely and you.”

“For the past fifteen years, one night a year you’ve been appearing on that highway.” You said, explaining more of this into further detail.

“No. That’s not possible.” Molly mumbled, heading up to the three of you. “It was our anniversary—February twenty-second…”

“1992.” You finished for her. She looked over at you, nodding her head in agreement. You swallowed slightly, knowing this was going to feel like a punch to the gut. “Molly, it’s 2007.”

“Oh, God.” You hear whisper to herself. All of the subtle hints that you had been giving her during the time together, it was all finally settling into her mind. You watched as her eyes glazed over, you knew there was no more denying the truth. After thinking to herself a bit more about the information, she looked at the three of you. “And Greeley?”

“Each year he punishes somebody for his death—chasing them. Torturing them.” Sam said, listing off the unfortunate events the man had thought was fit to finish the crime. “And each year, that somebody is you.”

“But I don’t remember any of it.” Molly admitted, her voice cracking slightly.

“Because you couldn’t see the truth, Molly.” You mumbled.

She was quiet for a few moments, blinking a few times before speaking up once more. The real truth finally settled into her mind. “So that’s why he won’t let me off the highway. Because I…I killed him. I killed us both.” She mumbled. Just from seeing the guilt and grief that began to become expressive on her facial expression, you knew she was finally allowing herself to relive the moments of what really happened. She was dead. There was no husband to go back to. No life to keep on living. This was her time to move on, but you were worried she still wouldn’t let go.

\+ + +

You glanced up at the sky; the hues of yellow and orange were peeking through the storm clouds that were slowly beginning to break apart for another new day. Molly had been quiet for a long period of time. She settled herself down on the steps of the home, but still not giving attention toward herself. Everyone was still asleep, not knowing what was happening right in their own streets. Her hands were wrapped together, she stared at the ground for a minute or so.

“Why didn’t you tell me when you first saw me?” Molly couldn’t help herself but ask that question that burned in the back of her mind. “Why wait until now?”

“You wouldn’t have believed us.” Dean said, but Molly could see right through the man’s words.

“And you needed me for bait.” She added. You flinched at her words, knowing they were true.

“Well, we needed you.” Sam said, trying to make the situation a bit more at ease. Molly kept silent for a few moments, but her mind slowly eased herself back to her husband. When she whispered out the man’s name, you knew she wasn’t ready to let go. “Molly, we brought you back here so you could move on.”

Molly shook her head, pushing herself up to her feet. “I have to tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Sam asked her. The woman took her gaze away from the window and stared at the man, listening to what he was saying. Deep down, the both of them weren’t so different. Perhaps they had different connections to losing someone. But the pain wasn’t different. “That you love him? That you’re sorry? Molly, he already knows that.”

“Look, if you want to go in there, we’re not gonna stop you.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, but you are gonna freak him right out.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You let out a sigh, glancing over at the man standing next to you. You shook your head. Even though it might have sounded insensitive, you knew deep down, he was right. “For life.”

You shifted around in your spot, not knowing exactly what to say that would make this woman let go. You think with everyone that you’ve lost, all the suffering that you had put yourself through, you think the words would just come right out. “David’s already said his goodbyes, Molly. Now it’s your turn.” You said. “This is your unfinished business.”

“What am I supposed to do?” She asked all of you, as if it was easy to explain.

“Just…let go. Of David. Of everything.” Sam said. “You do that, we think you’ll move on.”

"But you don’t know where.” She said, you nodded your head.

“No. But, Molly, you don’t belong here. Haven’t you suffered long enough? It’s time.” You said, giving the woman a small smile. She gotten herself out of the vicious cycle of dealing with the night that was just an accident. There was a chance she could be free. And she needed just an extra push in order to reach another part of life. “It’s time to go.”

Molly was quiet for the longest time. She worked through her tears that threatened to fall, she sniffled a few times, before she nodded her head. The idea of letting everything go finally seemed like a good idea. You watched as she began to walk toward the sidewalk, away from the home where her husband was happily married again. But she knew in the back of her mind that he would love her, no matter how many days or years that passed, the both of them had the time together he would never forget. As the sun began to rise, she allowed herself to feel the warmth on her skin, the gentle breeze that passed by, all before, she finally let go—disappearing right from your sight.

“I guess she wasn’t so bad,” Dean spoke up first, making you look over at him. “For a ghost.”

You dropped your gaze back away for a moment. Shoving your hands inside your jacket pocket, you should have felt like this was another sense of accomplishment, but there was so many questions that began to fill your mind. It wasn’t something that you thought about before, but suddenly you couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Do you think she’s really going to a better place?”

“I hope so.” Sam mumbled, knowing that he was clueless as you were.

“I guess we’ll never know.” Dean said. “Not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?”

“Doesn’t really matter, Dean.” His brother said. “Hope’s kind of the whole point.”

There was silence between the three of you for a few moments, you found yourself wandering off in your thoughts again before you heard the oldest Winchester mumble out a comment. “All right, Haley Joel.” Dean mumbled. Slapping a hand against his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s hit the road.” You turned your body around and began heading for the Impala that was parked on the other side of the street. As you got closer to the car, you glanced over at the other road again once more before you loaded yourself inside and slammed the door shut, leaving this hunt behind for good.

\+ + +

Another day, another motel room. You slammed the door shut with the heel of your foot, both of your arms were stuffed with bags because of the unknown amount of days you and the boys were going to be staying here. You suggested at least a day or so to relax, knowing the last hunt you’d just wrapped up not even a full day ago was a stressful one. Neither one of you had gotten sleep in almost two days and your body was aching from all the running around you did. But you wrapped up another case, someone else was safe.

But there was something that had been creeping around in your mind. It hadn’t been bothering you for all of these months. From what Molly said to you all, about not knowing what happens after someone dies, it made you wonder. And when you began to think about something, you wouldn’t stop until it drove you up the wall. It went from one topic to another. You started at what happened after the car accident, and you were now lingering on your parents. What happened to them after they died? Were they really suffering?

You were almost mechanically working your way through getting your things unpacked, you didn’t seem to even notice there was someone knocking on the door. It took almost a fourth time of pouding to break you out from your concentration on taking out your clothes. Throwing a shirt down, you headed over and opened the door to see that it was Dean. Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned yourself against the wood and opened your mouth, about to ask him what he was doing here. But he beat you right to the punch, asking you another question.

"Hey, mind if I come in?” He asked you, a sheepish smile spreading across his lips. You nodded your head and stepped out of the way, watching as he began to take a few steps inside the room. “Sam’s passed out. And I didn’t want to bug him, so…”

"It’s fine.” You mumbled, shutting the door behind him and headed to your bed again. You reached down to continue on with taking out your clothes, but you looked over your shoulder again to see what Dean was up to. A smile crept across your lips when you saw him glancing around, not sure what to do with himself. Rolling your eyes, you shoved a few small bags to the floor and patted a spot for him to take. “Come on, Winchester. Tell me why you’re really here.”

You hear his footsteps echo off the walls until you see his body approaching from the corner of your eye. A few seconds later, the body dips down a bit further when he takes a seat. There is another few moments of silence between the both of you. Dean reaches for a shirt you’d discarded without much thought. "Do you ever think about the accident?” Your body freezes up when you hear him speak. Glancing up from the bag, you slowly make eye contact with the man. Your grip tightens around the fabric when he furthers his question. “Is there anything you remember before you woke up?”

“Why do you want to know?” You dodge his question with another. He shrugs his shoulders ever so slightly. You know there’s no more avoiding it. So you drop yourself to the bed, letting your hands fall into your lap. You’re quiet for a few moments. A small smile creeps at the end of your lips, you shake your head. “I spent all these months trying to forget about it. But I can’t get him out of my head.”

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” Dean asked, his voice was full of concern.

You wait for a few moments, wondering if you should admit this. But you had your secrets with Sam, knowing the both of you had things about yourselves that seemed only appropriate to talk about. And the way that Dean was staring at you, he wasn’t like his father. You knew whatever you were going to say, deep down, he wasn’t going to fear you. “You asked me what I remember before waking up. I saw my dad, Dean. Just like how I pictured him growing up. He was sitting there. It was almost like—”

“An outer body experience? You kept thinking it wasn’t real? But then you saw yourself, and suddenly, you knew there was something wrong.” He finished your thought, almost taking the words right out from your mouth. “It almost makes you wonder.”

“Makes me wonder about everyone else. How much suffering they’re going through.” You muttered underneath your breath. You didn’t mean for the conversation to drag down to this level, but it seemed that you were thinking out loud. “What if were to really die? I mean, is there something else out there for us? And what about me?”

When you realized you admitted the last part, your body froze in fear. You dropped silent for a moment as you could feel Dean’s eyes bore in the side of your head, wondering what you meant by that. But before you could make an escape, you feel his hand wrap around your arm and yank you down. It wasn’t hard, but it was just enough force for you to know that he was serious to wonder what you were talking about. Cranking your head to the side, you saw his expression, the urge to want to know more. You swallowed slightly, keeping quiet for a moment.

"There’s so much we still don’t know. And I mean, more that just what happens we when kick the bucket. I’m talking about all this storm that everyone keeps dancing around, the chaos that never stops. I…I guess I’m scared.” You admit, your lips stretching into a crooked smile. But you could feel your eyes beginning to glaze over as your vision became blurry. Before you could stop it, all of what you were feeling came rushed out. “Things are happening faster than I can handle. Our lives are so screwed up, Dean. And, sometimes, I can’t help but feel like everything’s all my fault.”

You remembered your mother always taught you that telling the truth would set you free from guilt or sadness that you were feeling. But you just felt worse. You reached up a hand to wipe away the tears that fell down now, suddenly feel so stupid and vulnerable for breaking down. All though, you weren’t expecting Dean to scooch over in his spot. He leaned over and wrapped an arm around your body, pulling you closer to his body. You sniffled a few times, breathing in his scent. It was a strange mixture of gasoline, faint cologne and you swore gun powder.

“Blaming yourself isn’t going to solve the problem, Y/N. And nothing’s your fault.”

“Yeah, but if there was just something I could do—”

“It’s gonna be alright.” Dean said, cutting you off. “I promise, it will be.”


	17. Heart.

“Are you saying I have bad aim?” 

“No. I’m saying I don’t want to pick up your ripped up flesh off the floor.” 

You ran your fingers through your hair, brushing past any loose ends off to the side, making sure there wasn’t any sort of distraction. A cold breeze made your cheeks become a tinted red as you reached for the pistol, the heavy metal touched your frozen fingertips. You wondered why Dean had dragged you into the middle of nowhere for a quick target practice. There was a reasonably nice looking sports store just a few minutes away from the motel you were staying at. But he insisted that taking you out here would be more logical. You grabbed the magazine clip and shoved it into the end of the pistol, hearing the sound of the metal clicking into place. 

There was something about guns that you didn’t quite like. They were loud, for the most part and too bulky to carry around. You haven’t shot one off in ages, either. Sure, you’ve carried one for when the situation called for them. But you chose to stick with something you’ve always been most comfortable with, a knife. You liked how they were easy to conceal, they were always quiet and the best part was you could be precise at where you attacking the monster you were trying to kill. 

All though, with a new hunt coming up, there was speculation forming between the three of you from the research being done. A victim was found clawed to death his office, his chest nearly ripped open with marks that looked like claw marks and animalistic bites on certain parts of his body. The crime scene photos you found were nothing to joke around about, they even made you squirm a bit when you tried examining them. But there wasn’t enough proof to know if the man’s heart was missing. A key piece in finding out this was the big, bad werewolf. 

Sam had disappeared for the morning to head into down and see if this was what all of you could call your next case. Dean had decided if this could have been the real deal, there wasn’t a chance he was going to give up the opportunity to see what you remembered about shooting. A flimsy little knife wasn’t something that was going to protect you if you’ve got a werewolf coming after you, he said after you protested the idea of standing in the freezing weather for this. 

You cocked back the pistol and eyed the makeshift targets set up a good distance away from where the both of you were standing. You took a deep breath in, allowing the crisp air to fill your lungs as another second passed by. Just as you reached up with the gun to position yourself for a shot, a voice boomed inside your ear, nearly making your finger press down on the trigger from the unexpected distraction. 

“I told you, Y/N. You can’t be slow if you’ve got a werewolf coming after you. Hell, anything really from how you’re acting. The sucker would have ripped your throat out. These things move quicker than you realize.“ Dean was at it again, critiquing every little move that you were making. You knew he meant well. But you were about to lose it. “And make sure your finger isn’t on the trigger unless you’re absolutely ready to shoot.”

You glanced over your shoulder and gave the man a serious look. The kind you would always use when he was riding your back and treating you more like his father would. Precise about every little detail. “It’s not my first time, Dean. I got this.” He stared at you for a second before you watched as his facial expressions calmed down. 

Letting out a breath, you turned your full attention to the targets ahead. Repositioning yourself at the right angle, you put the finger on the trigger. It took a moment before you actually fired, and you didn’t even realize it, but you had felt in total control of the situation. Something in which you haven’t felt in a while. Shooting a gun was like riding a bike after spending years off of one. You might be a little rusty at first and feel like you’re going to fall, but once the fear settles down, it’s almost a second nature for you. 

Your ears are ringing after the sound of the gun clicking when you tried to take another shot. That was another thing to remember, how many bullets a gun can hold. Yet another reason why you didn’t like them. You can lose ammo quick if you aren’t exactly precise. Dropping the gun to your side, you glance over at the man standing next to you. You take a free hand and shield your eyes from the sun. Dean’s quiet for a moment or so, making you antsy to know his verdict. 

“So?” You question the man, eagerness rising in your voice, wanting to know what he had thought. “You think I can be a part of this?”

Dean has the audacity to spend another moment of silent, expecting your work. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him again, but he speaks first. “First try. It’s impressive.” He starts. You can feel your eyes roll into the back of your skull when he pulls out another clip from his jacket pocket. “One more time.” 

You took out empty magazine from the gun, replacing it with the fresh clip Dean hands over. Cocking back the gun, you glance over at the man standing next to you. “You owe me a drink after this, Winchester.“ You muttered underneath your breath as you got ready to aim again. "Actually, I’ll take a nice meal with that, too.

"Yeah, yeah.” Dean said, brushing off the tone of your as he pointed at something in the distance. “Let’s see how you do this time and then we’ll talk.”

\+ + +

You leaned against the soft pillows you’d stacked up just enough to sink deeper into your spot on the twin bed. Most of your attention since back at the motel was divided up on researching a bit more information on werewolves, digging deeper into other lore and informing yourself anymore knowledge you could find useful. Dean was resting on the other bed, making himself by cleaning a few weapons with a cloth. You glanced up from your computer screen when you heard Sam shuffling around the room, heading to the fridge for something to drink. He had caught you and his brother up on what he learned from the autopsy report. And it seemed that you were really dealing with a human by day and a hairy beast by night.

“This lawyer guy first heart-free corpse in town?” Dean asked for clarification.

“First man.” Sam said, correcting his brother. He slammed the refrigerator door shut and walked over to the dining room table, dragging out a chair so he sit right across from the both of you. “Over the past year, several women have gone missing. Dead bodies all washed up later in the bay, too deteriorated to draw firm conclusions.”

“But no hearts.” You said, knowing this could have been a clear pattern all of you were looking for. The behavior seemed to have been enough to know this was the real deal.

“No hearts.” Sam answered. You looked over at the oldest brother who has a grin spreading across his lips when he realized all of you were really hunting an actual werewolf, something he admitted to only seeing once in his lifetime. You shook your head and looked down at your laptop screen. “They were all hookers working at Hunter’s Point. Cops are trying to keep things under wrap, but they’re looking for a serial killer.”

“And the lunar cycle?” Dean asked. From all the old horror movies and lore out there, almost everything was turning out to be true.

Sam nodded his head, taking a sip of his drink before dropping his arm back down to his side. “Yeah, month after month, all murders happened in the week leading up to the full moon.”

“Which is this week.” You pointed out, the first dead body of this week that might have been only the first of many. “Hence, the lawyer.” 

"Awesome.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath, another smile spreading across the ends of his lips as he jumped up from the bed like an eager child that was promised to be taken to the candy store. He leaned over and reached out a hand, diving for a small wooden box buried deep in the duffel bag that happened to be right beside your feet.

“Dean, could to be any more of a geek about this?” You asked the older man, a small smirk of your own found its way on your face. You looked over at Sam as the both of you let out a chuckle from the brother’s enthusiasm.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but what about human by day, a freak animal killing machine by night don’t you understand?” Dean said, you shook your head. “Werewolves are badass. We haven’t seen one since we were kids.”

“Maybe if you’re a good boy we’ll keep him as a pet.” You sarcastically spoke in a high pitched voice as you closed your laptop. "And, you know, not kill the thing that’s been snacking on the neighborhood hookers like chew toys.”

“And okay, sparky, you know what?” Sam decided to join in on the fun, making a small laugh escaped your mouth as you leaned over the bed to snatch a bullet from the case. A silver bullet to the heart, just like how the movies went. “After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland.”

But Dean seemed to have been off in his own little paradise, not even seeming to register the comments you or his brother were throwing around. “And you know what the best part is? We already know how to bring them down.” He said. You gave him back the bullet, knowing very well what he was talking about. Werewolves and shapeshifters had the connection of having silver as their weakness, easy enough to remember. “One of these bad boys to the heart.”

“Good thing I’m a master at shooting.” You said, taking a seat at the edge of bed. “So, what’s our next move going to be?”

“Talk to the girl who found the body.”

\+ + +

You stepped inside the apartment of Madison Collins, the woman who had found the her boss ripped to shreds just a few mornings ago. The law firm had told all of you she was taking a leave of absence from what she had saw. You couldn’t blame the woman. The sight wasn’t exactly a pretty picture that wouldn’t leave someone’s mind. And her workplace might have been an awkward spot to be. Last time you heard, they were still keeping the room as a crime scene until the end of the week before putting the entire room under construction.

“I don’t understand.” Madison said, seeming a bit confused to see three new faces asking her questions about her dead boss. She lead all of you into the living room as she continued. “I already gave my statement to you.” 

“Well, we just need to verify a few things.” Sam explained, but you could see his attention wandering over to an unfamiliar man sitting on the woman’s couch. The stranger turned around in his seat, wondering what was going on before he jumped up when Madison introduced him.

“This is my neighbor, Glenn.” Madison said, gesturing an arm to the man. You noticed his shirt seemed to have been from the local church run, but it could tell a lot about his character. You couldn’t help but notice his beard, well kept from how thick it was. “Glenn. This is detective…” 

“Landis. That’s Detective Dante.” Dean introduced him and his brother. You could feel his hand rest on your shoulder, knowing he still had yet to mention you. “And this is our trainee, Dunsky.”

“Well, guess I’ll leave you to it.” Glenn said in a quiet tone. Your eyes trailed on the man as he walked up to Madison, trying for a hug, but she quickly leaned backwards. You looked away when you could feel the room shift into an awkward tone from the unexpected rejection.

“Okay. Thanks for the casserole.” Madison said, giving the man a smile.

“Oh, how thoughtful.” Dean commented, you shoved an elbow into his side from that.

Glenn gave the older man a blank expression before looking at Madison as he stood in the doorway. “Just call if you need anything.” He offered. He shifted around in his footing before dodging for the hall, going back to his own apartment. A few seconds later, you could hear the echo of a door slamming shut. You took a step forward, shutting her own door for privacy.

“He’s sweet. He came over to check on me.” Madison said, shrugging her shoulders when you gave the woman a curious look about what unfolded. “Have a seat.”

You followed behind everyone as they made their way to the table; Sam was quicker in his footsteps, grabbing the chair that was right across from Madison, leaving you and his brother to sit at each opposite ends of the table. You might haven’t thought much about it before, but you swore you could see something in the younger man’s eye when he saw Glenn sitting in the apartment, almost like jealousy. All of you weren’t here five minutes and it seemed that Sammy had found someone he liked. You knew it was going to take him longer to discover the feelings. Of course, it just gave you more time to think of ways to torture the man.

“You must be pretty shaken up.” Sam lead the conversation first, keeping the topic focused on basic questions all of you already knew. “You were Nate Mulligan’s assistant, right?”

“For two years, yeah.” She answered, nodding her head.

“So you knew all about him.” Dean said.

“Probably knew more about him than he did. Nate was…he was nice.” Madison explained her old boss. You could see a small smile spread across her lips, like she was keeping more from all of you. You leaned in a bit closer to the woman, you gave her a hint to keep going, a smirk spread across your own face. “Nothing, really. You get few scotches in him, and he started hitting on anyone in a five-mile radius. You know the type.”

You let out a small laugh, knowing that was true. You glanced over at the brother sitting across from you. It wasn’t too hard to know that Dean was trying his hardest to subtly flirt with Madison; he was keeping eye contact with her, a dazzling smile spread across his face. You cleared your throat a few times causing his attention to shift toward you for a moment. His eyebrows furrowed, wondering what you wanted. You shook your head at the man as you eyed the silent brother that looked to have caught onto what was happening. Again, Sam was subtly hinting he had an interest in Madison, and you weren’t going to let his brother stand in the way.

“Yeah. I do, actually.” You remarked, watching as Dean seemed to have gotten the connection you were making when you glanced over at him for a moment. His smile dropped, you turned your attention to Madison again. “Did, uh, did he have any enemies?”

“What do you mean?” She asked you with confusion. “Sure looked like an animal attack.”

“Dunsky likes to be thorough. But she’s still new and jumps to conclusions sometimes. We’re just covering all the bases.” Dean jumped into the conversation. You gave the man a stare from his bogus explanation, but it seemed smooth enough to ask more. “Anyone that might have had a beef with him—former client, an ex.”

Madison’s face dropped, seeming that she had thought of someone in particular from the small amount of examples. “What?” Sam asked with concern.

“Well this is embarrassing, but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt Mueller. After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He’s,“ Madison said, pausing for a few moments to explain the situation. "Well, he’s kind of been stalking me. He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up at my office.”

“And what happened?” You asked, wondering where this story went.

“Kurt got into it with Nate. Threw a punch before security grabbed him.” She said, shaking her head at the bad memory. “I was lucky enough to keep my job.”

“When was the last time you saw Kurt?” Dean questioned.

“A few nights ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar, and Kurt showed up.” Madison started answering before the connection finally came to her. You asked if there might have been another attack, but she shook her head. “It was…like he was watching me. Then he was gone. And, to tell you the truth, he scares me.”

You that new information sink in as you reached for a discarded pen you saw sitting in the middle of the table. You found a piece of scrap paper right across from where you were sitting, you wrote down a few cell phone numbers and handed it over to Madison. “Here. If you happen to see Kurt around or any new information pops into your mind, don’t hesitate to call this number.” You said, giving the woman another. “And again, thank you for your time.”

Getting up from your chair, the brothers followed behind before you told Madison all of you would see yourselves out. No need to burden the woman with a task. Besides, you hoped that she would call Sam’s number you labeled with an underline crossed underneath the man’s fake last name before you made him do it. A psycho ex-boyfriend wasn’t going to be the problem soon if he was the problem you were hunting for. You shoved your hands inside your pockets when you stepped out into the afternoon air, walking down the steps with Sam in sync as Dean trailed behind after closing the door to the home behind him.

“So, what do you think?” Dean asked the both of you.

“Stalker ex-boyfriend. He hates the boss.” Sam said, seeming to wonder himself if this man could be the werewolf all of you were hunting down. “And he was there that night.”

“Think he’s our dog-faced boy?” Dean asked, using an obnoxious nickname.

You shrugged your shoulders, stepping off the sidewalk and walking to the back of the Impala. waiting until the man unlocked the door. “Well, it’s a theory.”

“We’ve had worse. What do you say we pay Kurt a visit?” Dean suggested. You nodded your head at his idea, opening the backseat door and hopping inside, getting yourself away from the cold again and waited until the heat kicked in.

\+ + +

You knocked a few times on the apartment door of Kurt; night had fallen a few hours ago, making it the perfect time to sneak around the man’s place. He was working at his job, but you knew all of you had to be careful from curious neighbors or if, by some chance, Kurt got off early. You glanced over your shoulder when Dean started picking the locks, managing to get each one done in record time, just as you heard footsteps coming from down the hall. He opened the door and swung it open before peeking his head inside to see if the cost was empty. The silence that followed seemed to have made it clear enough nobody was home.

Dean was the first one to step inside, you followed behind as Sam took one more sweep of the hall before he closed the door. You began to wander around the place, not having a particular direction you were going until you caught sight of a shelf with a few personal pictures. You leaned in to see Kurt didn’t look like a bad guy. In one picture he was smiling, holding two babies that seemed to be a few months apart. The other had him holding up a fish during a trip to the lake with an older man in the background. You shifted your attention to the other side of the apartment to see that Sam was flipping through a few folders and documents as Dean peeked around in the fridge, wondering if the man’s diet included a few human hearts for a midnight snack.

“Find anything?’ You asked, walking over to the kitchen island.

“Nothing but leftovers and a six-pack.” Dean said, closing the door behind him.

“A typical bachelor’s diet. Check the freezer.” You suggested, continuing to inspect the place to see if there was any clues you might have missed. “Maybe there’s some human hearts behind the Haagen-Dazs or something.”

You tapped your fingers against the marble countertop for a moment, seeming to find yourself slowly spacing out in thought for a moment before something strange echoed in your ears. Freezing in your spot, you looked over your shoulder to hear the noise coming from outside. You walked over to the door, lifting up the lock and pushed open the glass to step out on the patio. You walked until you were at the edge, gripping the edge as you glanced down at the sides of the building to see what was going on. Slowly, your eyes trailed over to the concrete, noticing something like claw marks running down the edge of the wall until they stopped just a few feet from the pavement below.

“Guys, come here.” You shouted to get the brothers’ attention. As you leaned farther over the edge, you heard footsteps approaching you from behind until you saw them appear in the corner of your eyesight. “Check it out.”

If you had guessed from the marks, it seemed that someone was doing a little snooping of their own. The brothers decided it might have been not much to worry about as you headed inside back into the apartment to continue searching. All of you continued on with your search for another few minutes in peace and quiet. You were halfway through in trying to track the password on the computer when the sound of a gunshot made you jump nearly a foot in the air. Before you could start suspecting it was related to the three of you, the brothers were off, inspecting to see what was going on.

You stayed behind for a moment, making sure the place looked like someone wasn’t snooping around as you locked back up before meeting the brothers outside in an alley. Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion when you saw Sam standing with your back turned and Dean crouched on the ground. As you took a few steps closer to see what was going on, your face dropped when you saw a police officer with his chest ripped open, drenched and covered in his own blood.

“Oh, God.” You muttered underneath your breath. “What happened?”

“Kurt’s looking more and more like our Cujo, that’s what happened.” Dean said, looking up from the dead body and at you. That would explain the marks on the building. The man might be prowling the streets right now, wondering where his next meal of the night could be.

“If he’s out here, we better check on Madison.” Sam suggested. The cop might have been a quick snack, or a distraction from what he really wanted. You wondered if the real target was the woman who happened to be only fifteen minutes from here. And the wasn’t here wasn’t going to be a chance you were letting the thought continue and have the big, bad wolf take another life.

\+ + +

You knocked on apartment door number three just a few minutes after sunrise, just loud enough for the noise to echo through her home. You rested your hand to your side and waited a few moments for the front door to open. The sight of another body shredded open wasn’t exactly what you wanted. But you worried that the questioning the police had grilled you for after discovering the body of a fellow coworker had made the chance of checking on Madison slim. The process too a few hours, longer than expected, and all you kept thinking about was if the woman was okay from that sick puppy who was still on the loose. 

The sound of squeaking hinges broke you from the concentration on the wall you’d been staring at for the past minute or so. You glanced to see if Madison was standing in the doorway, but your eyebrows furrowed in confusion to see that it was still closed. You ended up cranking your head over your shoulder to see what was going on; Glenn, her friendly neighbor that lived right across from her, peeked his head out from the crack to see what was going on. 

He was really getting on your last nerve. And one of the reasons why you’d never move into an apartment. The thought of selling your home had crossed your mind a few times. But people like Glenn, nosy neighbors that poked their interest in where it didn’t belong, never failed to make that idea slip away just as quick as you brought it up. 

“What’s going on?” He questioned the three of you with concern in his voice. 

“Police business, Glenn.” Dean informed the man, hoping to leave the conversation at that with him.

You averted your attention back to the front of you when you heard another door open right from behind you again. Luckily when you saw none other than Madison standing in the doorway dressed in a robe and bed head, and not a single scratch across you could see on her body. “What’s going on?” She asked all of you, wondering what all of this commotion was about right in her doorway.

Glenn was still staring at you with those eyes of his when you wondered in the coast was clear, you gave him an annoyed look before diverting your attention back to the woman standing in front of you. “Well, maybe we should talk privately?” You asked, mentioning the eavesdropper wait a nod of a head. It took her a moment to get what you were hinting around before she nodded her head, waving the three of you inside. You made sure to slam the door behind you, loud enough for the point you were trying to make to her neighbor. There was just some things in this world he didn’t need to know about Madison’s life.

Madison seemed to have noticed the yawn that escaped your lips, which you only half heartedly managed to cover it up with a hand slapping against your wide open mouth, silencing the obnoxious noise that followed afterwards. Running around all night tracking a werewolf seemed to have been taking more out of your than normal. Luckily it seemed Madison was already up for the morning when she offered the three of you a warm cup of coffee, which you graciously accepted without a word of protest. You watched as she poured you a cup of coffee after serving the brothers, you mumbled a thank you before giving her a small smile. As you put the cup to your lips and blow, your eyes lingered upwards to Sam, who was the first one to ask the question, the reason why all of you were here without a warning and out of the blue.

“Has Kurt been here?” He asked, eyeing the woman for her response.

“Not exactly.” Madison admitted. Her answer made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” You asked her, wondering what happened last night.

“Well, he was outside last night–just looking. Just watching me.” Madison tried explaining to the best of her ability. You glanced over at the brothers, wondering if this was the man’s way of behaving like a dog, showing some sort of alpha behavior. Or if it was just the opposite; what if this was his way of toying with his victims before he killed them. Get the person he was hunting on edge, pushing them back and forth before he lunged in for the fun part. “Has he done something?”

“We’re not really sure.” Sam said, trying not to scare the woman. “It’s probably nothing.”

“But…” From the caffeine that kicked inside your body, your attention trailed over to the younger man. Your lips twitched into a smirk. Of course you weren’t going to let an opportunity like this slip through your fingers, you wanted to play matchmaker, and this was the perfect moment. A nice, tall and strong man to defend the damsel. This couldn’t get any easier. “We wouldn’t want to take any chance. In fact, one of them should stay here with you while I’m out, just in case he stops by. Where does he work?”

“He owns a bodyshop.” Madison said.

"Perfect. Would you mind grabbing the address for me?” You asked, giving her a small smile. Madison nodded her head in agreement to do what you asked. “Thank you.”

“All right, you go with Y/N.“ Sam offered his brother. "I’ll stay.”

“Forget that. You go after the creepy ex.” Dean argued. “I’m gonna hang here with the hot chick.”

“Why do you always get to hang out with the girls?” Sam questioned his brother.

Dean’s lips twitched into a smirk, “Because I’m older.”

But it seemed that the little brother wasn’t going to take that lying down. You watched as you took another sip of your coffee, amusement beginning to arise when the both of them decided to settle this like real men. “No, screw that. We’ll settle this the old fashioned way.” Sam said. You nearly dropped two cups that were thrusted into your face, but managed to juggle both. Putting them on the counter, you saw the both of them were in a fierce battle of rock, paper, scissors. You shook your head, wondering why you were shocked at this outcome. Pretty girls make men stupid.

The both of them pounded their fists against the palm of their hand three times before drawing; Sam kept his hand into a tight fist, Dean had thrown his fingers into a peace sign. Your lips twitched into a smile when you saw the reactions of both. “Dean, always with the scissors.” Sam taunted his brother, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. But Dean stopped the man, knowing he wasn’t going down with another fight.

“Shut up. Shut up.” Dean mumbled with anger. “Two out of three.”

Sam rolled his eyes in an annoyance, but he agreed; the both of them repeated the action until they drew another conclusion that Dean really sucked at playing this game. The man had kept his previous move by throwing scissors again, but Sam was different, using rock to beat his brother. Dean growled in anger, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a tiny laugh as you pushed him toward the door. “Bundle up out there, all right?” Sam advised a word of caution, smirking to himself as he watched his brother furiously head out in the walk of shame.

“Have fun, Sammy.” You teased the younger man, giving him a playful wink before setting down your coffee cup on the counter. The man might have been a great hunter who’d known had to cover up his emotions by giving you a confused expression from what you’d said, but you could read body language better than him. “Come on. It might have been very long since I’ve had a crush, but I know one when I see one. Madison seems like a real sweet girl. Just don’t do anything Dean would do.”

"What?” Sam was still denying everything, giving you a baffled look. “I just want to make sure she’s safe, that’s all.”

“Mhmm. I’m just a phone call away if you need any help starting a conversation.” You said, patting your pocket where your cell phone was. “Oh, you can talk about books or TV. Or maybe suggesting to buy her some lunch from her favorite takeout place.”

Sam’s face scrunched up in confusion, “How do you know that?”

“There’s a huge bookshelf of all sorts of novels. She has a dent in the couch, probably her spot where she sits to enjoy her favorite shows. Make sure to avoid that spot. And there’s a coupon reading something about being a valuable customer.” You pointed at the fridge he was standing behind, making him turn around to read what you had caught. “Look, you have your skills, I have mine. Maddie seems nice. And you know, after Kurt, you seem like her knight and shining armor.”

“Here you go.” Madison’s voice rang inside your ears, making Sam a bit nervous to see if she had heard anything. You turned around to see her standing there with the address written on a loose piece of paper. From the look on her face, it seemed that she didn’t suspect a single thing from the previous conversation.

“Thank you, again. Hopefully we won’t be gone too long. But my partner here knows how grueling and boring the process of tracking someone down can be. All though Sammy here is a great sport at entertaining. Have fun, guys!” You said, giving the two a bright smile as you headed to the front door. Sam might have been a little pissed at throwing him into the situation like that, but you know he would thank you later for what a wonderful friend you were.

\+ + +

You and Dean spent almost an hour trying to see what you could find out on the whereabouts on Kurt. It took you at least a handful of his employees until you got the same response; the man was a no show for the past week. You knew that could have been a good warning that this man could have been the werewolf you were hunting down. There was just a few more days until the full moon, more time for the man to continue on with the transition before going back to normal. You dug your hand inside your pocket when you found your attention situation crossing your mind, punching in the younger Winchester’s number, you pressed the cell phone to your ear and waited until he picked up after the second ring. He was quick, which meant he wasn’t distracted.

“Let me guess.” You started off the conversation, knowing exactly what was doing at this very moment. Sam was great with the ladies when he pushed himself, but he wasn’t exactly confident around someone he liked. The complete opposite of his brother. “You’re sitting on her couch trying to think of something to say.”

“Did you find Kurt?” Sam questioned in a low tone, knowing he didn’t want Madison to hear the conversation. But you wondered if he would even allow himself to be in the same room.

“He hasn’t been at work all week, but because I’m good,” You said, beginning to let yourself brag a bit from the work you’d pulled off just from yourself. “And I mean really, really good, I got a line of where he might be–Dean, hey!”

You managed to slip yourself into the car, being distracted at slamming the door shut, you didn’t seem to notice the other brother had grabbed your phone. "What’s she wearing?” Dean decided to tease his brother, who’d ignored the question. You rolled your eyes and snatched the phone away, keeping a smile of amusement to cross your lips as you used that for an excuse to give the younger man some more unwanted advice that would help push the man to make a move.

“If she’s wearing something nice, compliment here. Girls love that sort of attention from guys. But not in a creepy sort of way.” You said, trying to think of other ways to help the man. “Oh, and–”

“Bye, Y/N.”

A few seconds later you heard the dial tone ring in your ear, making a small laugh escape you from how Sam was acting. You shut your phone and shoved it back into your pocket. “Oh, Sammy’s way over his head.” You mumbled, shaking your head. You glanced over at the dashboard clock to see it was about going on nine in the morning. “We have about two hours to kill before Kurt shows up. What do you want to do?”

“Are you hungry? Because I don’t know about you, I’m starving for something sweet to eat.” Dean suggested. You rolled your eyes at his hunger that never seems to end, but you nodded your head in agreement. Some breakfast seemed like a good idea right now.

\+ + +

“Please?”

“No, Y/N.“

"Come on. I tell you almost everything. Why won’t you tell me her name?” You couldn’t help but continue bugging the man for the past five minutes, ignoring his every attempt at trying to drop the conversation. The both of you settled down for a hot meal at a little diner you’d pointed out. You snatched a piece of bacon off his plate when he was too busy chugging another cup of coffee. If he wasn’t going to answer your question, you weren’t going to let him finish his meal in peace.

“Because it’s done and over.” He said, slamming the ceramic cup back down to the table. You rolled your eyes, munching down on the last bit of the food before wiping your hands on the crumpled up napkin. “I was stupid, I had a small lack in judgement. She’s gone. What makes you curious to know the answer now anyway?”

"It’s not everyday you discover a womanizer like Dean Winchester once had butterflies for someone.” You say, reaching for another piece of his food. But Dean’s quick at catching on to your actions, pulling his plate backwards. “Besides. You always get all defensive and pouty when Sam starts liking a girl you can’t have. Makes me curious to see why you act like that.”

“No, I don’t.” Dean snapped at you, making the tip of his lips pout out.

You let out a small chuckle, pressing the cup to your lips and took a drink before settling it back down on the table. “Can you at least give me a name? Tell me what she looked like?” You started bombarding him with questions, hoping he would break. “Where did you meet her?”

Dean thought about it for a few seconds, the sigh that escaped his lips made it known you had broken at least just the tiniest bit of his wall he’d suddenly gotten up about a conversation you’d been wanting to have. Months before, while working a case in upstate New York, you’d been curious to ask the older man if he’d ever met someone who’d made him wish for a normal life. A life in which there was no evil, just everyday little things with someone you loved. And he said yes.

Rubbing a hand against his chin, you waited another few moments before Dean finally spoke up about his past. “I don’t remember her name. But she was pretty, the kind of face you don’t forget. I met her back when I just turned eighteen. I was stuck in some high school Sammy and I were forced to go to while Dad worked on.”

You listened intently, pressing your elbows on the table as he continued the story. His lips stretched into a smile when he began to remember the woman. “We went to school there for about three weeks. She didn’t know I existed until I tried flirting with her one day. God, she was the only one that made me babble like an idiot. And she had the cutest laugh I had ever heard.”

“What happened?” You asked the man, pressing for him to continue.

Dean was quiet for a moment before admitting something you weren’t expecting to hear. “Reality caught up. She got dragged into this lifestyle. Turns out, what we were hunting…had been hunting her. And there went that little fantasy,” He snapped his fingers, “Just like that.”

You found yourself asking him, but couldn’t muster the courage to finish it. “Did she…”

“Die?” Dean finished your thought, you nodded your head. “No. But something inside of her did that day. Sometimes I feel like it’s my fault because I couldn’t be there faster. She just became another reason why I’ll never leave this hunting lifestyle.”

\+ + +

The rest of the morning slowly turned back into the night; you shoved your hands inside your pocket, leaning your backside against the dumpster as you glanced up into the night sky. A bright, full moon was up in view. The sight might have been breathtaking any other night of the week, but with the fact that you were in the alleyway of a cop that was found murdered by a werewolf, you were a bit on edge. You glanced back at Kurt’s apartment, just in time to see the light switch on, illuminating a yellow glow with a shadowed figure to reflect in the curtins.

Dean, who’d been pretty quiet for the most of the day, reached a hand inside his jacket and pulled out his trusty gun. He checked the clip to see the silver bullets he placed in earlier were secure before slamming it back into the spot. But the both of you quickly looked up at the patio again when you heard something crash. You saw that the glass was broken and the lights were switched off. Not a second later was Dean running off to the noise in order to see what was going on. bit hesitant, you decided to stay back for a moment, your fingers touching your own gun.

You waited about half a minute before you found yourself running after, guilt following from what you thought had been the right move. Dean took you practicing, you’ve done this before–there’s no reason for you to be nervous about shooting. You followed the familiar route up to Kurt’s apartment until you were lingering outside of the front door that was wide open. There was an eerie silence that followed, making you drawn to see what was going on inside.

Taking a few step inside, your eyes wandered around to see what was going on. You reached for the gun that was still inside your pocket as you pulled it out for protection, knowing there wasn’t something right about this scene. As you walked further into the place, your eyes wandered down to the floor when you accidentally stepped on something sticky, soon realizing it was blood belonging to Kurt. He was lying on the floor with his eyes open and chest ripped to pieces. You were stunned at the turn of events, dropping your arms to your side for a moment, making your attention lost at what was going on.

A sudden yelp of pain escaped your mouth when you felt something sharp rip against the arm that was holding the gun, making you drop the weapon to the ground. And before you realized, it seemed that you had become the prey. Your body was slammed against the ground, the blow was enough for you to snap out of reality for a moment, all before a growling noise made your eyes wander open to see what was going on. There she was in all of her glory; her teeth rotten and stained from the blood, her nails animalistic and sharp, looking exactly like the werewolf the boys had warned you about. It was never Kurt, Madison played all of you like fools.

You froze up in fear when you saw one of her hands reach up, with no weapon to fight with, you curled up like a coward by throwing up your hands to your face and at least defended yourself before you could think of something to get yourself out of this situation. But a sense of relief crossed your mind for a moment when you heard a familiar voice boom in your ears. “Get away from her, you bitch!”

Madison quickly looked over her shoulder to see who was disturbing her from another snack. Dean was standing over the woman, pointing the gun directly at her, but the werewolf wasn’t afraid of some flimsy gun. Before either one of you realized, she lunged for the man as her next target, making him drop his gun to the floor after banging his head roughly against the wall. When you saw Madison about to lunge again, you quickly managed to find your mind in everything. You reached down and grabbed the knife you’d carried around for emergencies. You flipped to your stomach and grabbed Dean’s gun with your free hand for what you were about to do next.

You managed to snag the werewolf’s attention once more when you slashed her upper arm, making her cry out in pain from the silver tip. You watched as she raced back for the patio door, you quickly drew up the gun and locked your attention on her target. You tried your hardest to concentrate with everything that was happening too quickly. And when you managed to press the trigger, she was long gone from sight.

“Damn it!” You screamed in frustration, dropping your hand to the floor. You let out a breath, wincing in pain from the wound you’d suffered on the arm you shifted around. As you turned your attention back to Dean, who’d been now out cold from the second blow to the head, the sound of sirens echoing in the distance was a sign you should be sticking around for much longer. One brother was sleeping with the enemy, and the other one (twice your size in body weight and height) was out like a light and you needed to get out of here before the police showed up at any moment’s notice. Yeah, you were ready to be a part of this hunt.

\+ + +

You winced in pain when you pressed the soaked cloth of peroxide into your wound, trying to wipe away any source of dry blood that remained. Sunlight poured through the bathroom window as you worked through the unfamiliar settings of Kent’s home to see if he happened to have a stash of bandaids around this place for your cut. It wasn’t too deep from the parting gift that Madison left you with, but you didn’t exactly want to take the chance of having the wound becoming infected from lack of attention. As you opened up the medicine cabinet to search around, the sound of bumps caused your attention to be ripped away from your search. Your eyes dropped down to the knife that was sitting on the counter. Not taking a chance, you quickly snatched it into your grip and held it close to you, waiting to hear the noise again.  
When the sound of footsteps now were coming to where you currently residing, you swallowed slightly before making yourself wander outward to the hall to see what was going on. You managed to only walk to the end before you turned around to see a figure looming a bit closer than you expected. “Jesus!” You nearly screamed on the top of your lungs, but only managed out a whispered tone when you realized it was just Dean. A hand quickly pressed against your rapidly beating heart, hoping a few breaths would calm yourself down.

“Good morning to you, too.” Dean muttered to what seemed to be himself. Reaching a hand up to the back of his head, you saw his face scrunch up in pain. His eyes slowly lingered down to the dead body as his index finger pointed. “What happened?”

You let out a sigh, placing down the knife to the kitchen counter after walking across the room. Spotting the box you’d been looking for all along, you snatched a bandaid and ripped off the paper packaging. “Turns out Kent’s just a creep. Don’t you remember who attacked you before getting knocked out?” You asked the man, concen beginning to rise when he shook his head. “Dean, it’s Madison. She’s our werewolf.”

From saying that, you could see his face drop into a panicked expression. The both of you knew that Sam was alone with the woman for the full night. Dean reached a hand inside his jacket pocket, punching in his brother’s number and pressed it to his ear. As he waited for the man to pick up, the attention shifted toward the marks on your arm. “You alright?” He asked with concern, reaching out a hand to grab your wrist. He inspected the clean wound before letting out a sigh of relief when he heard the other line pick up just a few rings later. “Sammy, thank God.”

“Dean, you okay?” His little brother asked, noticing the relief in the man’s voice.

“Yeah, now that I’m conscious. The werewolf knocked me out.” Dean said, glancing over at the clock to see time had passed by an hour while he was passed out. He subconsciously rubbed the back of his head before breaking the bad news. “Sam. It’s Madison.”

“What?!” Sam nearly shouted in surprise, not seeming to notice the lack of a body around during his time. Either the man was a horrible babysitter or Madison was sneaky enough for slip through without him noticing.

“Yeah, awesome job at keeping an eye on her.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

There was a small moment of silence from the other end; you could hear footsteps coming from Sam as you leaned in closer, probably to check up on the woman. “Dean, I’ve been here the whole time. "She’s in bed asleep.” Sam said after seeing the woman with his own eyes. You knew he would never lie about something like this. But the answer still wasn’t satisfying enough.

You reached out a hand to rip the phone away from the older man. “Yeah, well, she wasn’t an hour ago. You said. "Check her right arm just below her elbow. That’s where I cut her with a silver knife before she ran out the window.” You said, running your fingers through your hair. Suddenly you began to wonder if he was going to believe what you were saying. “Sam, I swear, it was her.”

\+ + +

Wasting no time, you and Dean rushed back to Madison’s apartment; you nearly pounded your fist through the wood before dropping it to your side, waiting a few moments before Sam answered. You could see the remorse and anger for what’d happened, the lack of judgement of trusting a woman who’d seemed like the innocent face. You followed behind him, making sure to feel for the knife you’d replaced back to your side. No amount of guilt seemed to have crossed your mind when you saw the woman herself, tied down to one of her dining room chairs with tear stained cheeks. It’s just part of her act, you told yourself.

“How you doing?” Dean asked the woman in a cheery voice, making you roll your eyes. You shrugged off your jacket and threw it on the couch, watching as her eyes lingered to your bandaged arm for a moment before lingering down to the knife you’d had shoved next to your side for protection. You wondered if she remembered anything, but all you could see was the fear in her eyes. He opened up his own jacket and pulled out his pistol. continuing with the sarcasm that was giving even you a headache. “My head feels great, thanks.”

“We got to talk.“ You quickly looked over your shoulder to see that Sam was standing over you, but his attention was focused on Madison for a moment. You nodded your head, following behind the younger brother as the three of you found privacy in her bedroom. Once the room fell silent for a moment, the events of last night were brought up. "She says she has no idea what I’m talking about.”

"She’s lying.” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Maybe.” Sam mumbled, agreeing with his brother for just a split second before bringing up a point neither one of you had considered until now. “Or maybe she really doesn’t know she’s changing. Maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out.”

“Like a really hot Incredible Hulk?” Dean asked.

“You know, it could be possible.” You said, seeming to with the man on this idea. “People can’t remember events during demon possessions. You and Josh couldn’t remember anything. And even normal humans can have blackouts where they just go crazy. I read an article not that long ago about a man who’d murdered his wife with a butcher’s knife before going to sleep. He woke up with no idea of what he’d done. So, why can’t we say this happened to Madison? Maybe it’s her human mind trying to cope with this change.”

“Y/N, she ganked her boss and her ex-boyfriend.” Dean said, seeming to be unconvinced by your added opinion. “That doesn’t sound ration unconscious.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and walked to the french doors, pushing a bit of the curtain back, peeking your eyes out to stare at the woman. She really didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d kill someone for fun. You bit your bottom lip, wondering if you were wrong. Maybe all of this was just her instincts controlling the urge to kill, maybe she didn’t want to kill. "But what if it was, Dean?” You questioned the man, walking back over to the brothers. “What if some animal part of her brain saw both of those guys as threats? Hell, the cop, too?”

“What, are you the dog whisperer now?” Dean sarcastically remarked.

“That’s how I communicate so well with you.“ You implied, giving him a look.

"Look, guys, I just,” Sam broke the small banter between the both of you, making the attention focus back on him. The younger man fell silent for a moment when he’d noticed the pair of eyes lingering on him, waiting to see what the next defense was going to be. He took a few steps forward, “I don’t know. There was something in her eyes.”

“Yeah, she’s killing people.” Dean argued with his brother.

“But if she has no control—” Sam tried again, but Dean cut him off.

“Even if she’s telling the truth,“ Dean said, putting up a hand so he could put his two cents in on the matter. "It’s not gonna change anything.”

“I’m not going to stand so one of you can put a bullet through some girl who has no idea what’s happening.” You couldn’t help yourself but stand your own ground, suddenly siding with Sam on this one. Dean’s eyes slowly lingered over to you, seeming surprised to hear your change of heart.

“Y/N, she’s a monster. Not even that long ago you wanted to shoot her yourself. Now you’re feeling sorry for her?” Dean questioned, you shrugged your shoulders.

“Maybe I understand her.” You mumbled underneath your breath, dragging your eyes away from the man from what you’d admitted.

“Look, there might be another way we can get the job done without having to waste her.” Sam spoke up, saving the three of you from an awkward tension. He walked over to the dresser, reaching for his father’s journal that was opened to a specific part.

Dean turned around, watching his brother’s every move. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glancing over at the man from what he’d just said.

“Dad’s theory.” Sam began, turning around to face you and his brother again. Dean let out a sigh of annoyance from what plan that was about to come up, but you listened up, wondering what he had in mind. “Lycanthropy might have a cure if you kill the werewolf who bit you, severing the bloodline.”

“Might have the cure.” Dean said, stressing the first word.“Meaning ‘who the hell knows?’”

“It’s worth a shot.” You argued with the man.

“We don’t even know where to start looking, Y/N.” Dean pointed out a few facts. “The puppy that bit her—it could be anyone, anywhere. Could have been years ago.”

Sam was quiet for a few moments, seeming to become agitated from his brother’s pessimistic attitude. But you could see his facial expressions jump up when he thought out something he remembered Madison telling him just last night. “No, I don’t think so.” He mumbled, putting the journal down before walking to the doors, opening them up. You wandered behind the younger man, beginning to wonder what this was all about. “Madison, when were you mugged?”

But the woman remained silent, not seeming to feel comfortable enough with answering questions, considering the predicament she was in. "Please,” You begged the woman in a soft tone. “It’s important, all right? Just answer the question.”

Madison waited a moment before answering, “About a month ago.”

“Did you see the guy?” Sam asked her another question, hoping that would explain things.

“No.” Madison said, shaking her head. “He grabbed me from behind.”

“Did he bite you?” You questioned her. 

 

Madison’s face began to scrunch up, “How did you know that?”

“BecaI know everything—Where, Madison?” You pressed for an answer.

“O—On the back of my neck.” She managed to say.

Sam put up his hands in a defensive move, silently telling the woman he was going toward her, but put down his weapon on the table to know he’d meant to harm. But Madison still stiffened up when he approached, bending down so he was now behind her. You and Dean followed behind to see; Sam moved a few strands of her hair back to see visible teeth marks left in her skin. You winced, knowing that must have hurt. “Oh, that’s just a love bite.” Dean remarked at what’d he seen. “Believe me, that could have been a lot worse. Where were you at the time?”

“Walking home from a friend’s loft.” She answered.

“Let me guess. Not to far from Hunter’s Point?” You asked the woman, she nodded her head. You glanced up at the other brothers, motioning them to head back to the bedroom. You walked back to the room, giving the three of you privacy once more before bringing up a connection you were beginning to notice. “Same place where the other murders happened. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but it has to be the werewolf’s hunting grounds.”

“That might be, but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna be out there tonight.” Dean said, still not seeming to be on board with his brother’s idea of curing the woman.

“It’s the right time of the of the lunar cycle.” Sam said, but his brother gave him a serious look from his unending optimism. “Look, I know it’s a long shot.”

“You two are forgetting something. Maddie’s probably gonna turn soon, all right.” Dean said. “We can’t let her take off to an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“I’ll stay with her.” Sam volunteered.

“And if she busts loose?” Dean asked his little brother. It was a moment of silence for all of you. “Sam?”

“I’ll do it.” Sam finally said it. You mumbled the man’s name, knowing deep down, he didn’t want to go to such an extreme. “I’ll shoot her, all right? But, Dean, I need you to go out there. At least go look for the thing.”

“Dean, please.” You couldn’t help yourself but speak. “We can save this girl.”

He stared at you for a few moments, but his answer made you feel there could have been just a bit of hope left in his mind. “Fine.” He muttered underneath his breath. You gave him a small smile for what’d he was about to do, but he ignored it, heading straight for the bedroom doors.

After a moment of silence you glanced back at Sam, who was now standing with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall. You could see the hope beginning to fade in his eyes from the lack of optimism that was surrounding the situation. Taking a step forward, you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “We’ll do it together, Sammy. I promise.” You whispered, giving him a bright smile when he forced himself to look at you. “Out of anyone I know, we can get her through this.”

\+ + +

Hours passed; you were sitting on the window seat with your legs crossed, staring up at the full moon again. You knew things between Sam and Madison were nothing but tense. She probably thought all of you were lunatics that were trying to kill her, but even with the amount of convincing and talking you tried, she still wouldn’t look you straight in the eye. You could see Sam’s towering body from the corner of your eye as his attention lingered out at the night sky. A hand reached out to touch the loose piece of string on one of her pillows, but you stopped in your actions when you heard something strange echo through the air. You thought Madison had fell asleep a few hours ago, but it seemed that she was wide awake. And so was the werewolf inside of her.

Snapping of her binds on the chair was the first thing that you made out before turning your head to see what was going on. Madison was now out of the chair, completely lost in the feeling of her primal side, going back to the monster you remembered from the night before. Sam reached for the gun he’d had shoved inside the back of his jeans, you wasted no time in ripping out your knife, trying to find a way to defend yourself, knowing the worst fear had come true. You knew she wasn’t in control, the monster was taking over her mind.

“Maddie, come on. You can control this.” You mumbled, taking a step to the wooden floors. You hoped talking to her in a calm tone would be enough for her to somehow control this. As you opened your mouth to say something else, a sudden familiar sensation of pain scratched against your cheek, making you stumble to the floor. You quickly reached up a hand to touch your face, feeling a sticky sensation brush against your fingertips before wincing at the pressure. “God, I hate this job, sometimes.”

Sam bent down and grabbed your wrist, yanking you up from the floor like you were a feather. You stumbled backwards, but found standing behind him more of a personal comfort as Madison began to prowl toward the both of you. The younger Winchester pointed the barrel of the gun at the woman, his finger lingering on the trigger. The both of you were slowly walking backwards to the trap he’d had set up. You quickly looked over your shoulder to see that the closet door was open, a perfect spot to keep Madison locked up for the rest of the night.

Just as you were getting closer, you could feel yourself stumbling backwards after Sam shoved you out of the way from what he did next. He quickly dodged the woman as she lunged forward for her attack, but only ended up in the small closet. Sam slammed the door shut behind her, making her bump into the wood. You quickly grabbed a floor lamp and shoved it into the crack in the door for a moment, managing to use the adrenaline that was pumping through your veins. Sam disappeared for just a split second, all before you heard scraping coming across the floor. You turned your head to see him shoving the heavy wooden amour to the closet door.

The both of you pressed your backside against the barrier, listening to the growls and scrapes against the walls. Minutes passed, time slowly ticked away on the clock she’d hung up right above her kitchen. Slowly, the growls stopped short after two in the morning. After three, everything became deadly silent.

\+ + +

You shifted around in your spot, lying on something that felt strangely comfortable enough for you sink down to another amount of sleep that you’ve craved. But as you turned your head, a piercing amount of sunlight made you wince in discomfort, dragging you away from losing consciousness. You let out a small groan as you stretched your tense muscles. Slowly opening your eyes, you noticed that you somehow must’ve dragged your body over back to the window seat after things calmed down last night. Your attention shifted back to the episode Madison went through, your eyes wandered over to Sam, who was sitting on the floor. He was staring off into space, his knees pressed against his chest.

You opened your mouth to ask he was doing, but your train of thought was cut off when you heard the front door open. Getting yourself up from the seat, you wandered back to the door and opened it up. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you saw Dean, happy to know he was at least in one piece. “Did you do it?” You asked the man. He nodded his head. You thought that would have brought some sort of happiness, but you could feel something else gnaw at you. "Um, let’s give them a moment together. I just need to grab my jacket.”

It took you almost a moment before you turned around on your heels, walking back to the living room where you saw Sam still in the same position. You didn’t say anything to the man. You just grabbed the jacket and slipped it on, leaving him alone with a heavy task you knew he didn’t want to do. Promises are promises, after all.

\+ + +

“It’s sort of sad, actually. Glenn had no clue what was going on.” Dean said, admitting that the werewolf who’d turned Madison was in fact her neighbor. It explained why the man was so prominent about keeping an eye on his neighbor. Dean pushed himself into a normal sitting position. “Why do you think he turned instead of just killing her?”

You tore your gaze away from Madison’s apartment building, you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know.” You mumbled, your tone of voice was tired and defeated from the night before. “He kind of seemed to have a thing for her.”

“Maybe his primal instinct did, too.” Dean thought out loud. You rolled your eyes, letting out an obnoxious sigh from where this conversation was going. “Maybe he was looking for a little hot breeding action.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Sam muttered in a quiet tone.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Speaking of Madison…”

“Oh, whatever.”

“You liked her. Maybe, uh—” Dean pointed out, you warned the man.

“She thought I was a stark-raving lunatic.” Sam said, knowing any chances with the woman were dead.

You pushed yourself so you were leaning against the front seats, resting your head on the cushions. “You saved her life, Sammy.”

“But she doesn’t know that.” Sam said with disappointment rising in his voice.

The sound of someone knocking on the car window sent all heads turning to see who it was. You could see Madison herself bending down, standing at the passenger’s side of the car. Sam quickly rolled down the window, wondering what the woman was out here for.

“You know, for a stakeout, your car’s a bit conspicuous.” She said. “What are you still doing here?”

“Honestly? We’re pretty sure you’re not going to turn tonight, but we got to be one hundred percent, so you know, we’re…” You explained the situation to the woman, stopping for a moment before finding a proper word as you gave the woman a small smile. “Lurking.”

“Look, I know this sounds crazy—” Sam tried to explain everything to her, but she cut him off.

“It sure does.” She said in a matter-of-fact voice. But from what she said next, it seemed she was now beginning to believe what was going on. “Well, if we’re gonna wait it out, might as well do it together.”

You opened up the car door and stepped out into the cold morning, giving her a small smile for the offer. If Glenn was dead, it meant that Madison could have been back to normal. All of you went back into the apartment, following behind the woman in complete silence. When you heard the front door shut after all of you filed inside, you looked back at the woman.

“You were telling the truth, weren’t you? About everything. What you did—it was to help me.” She asked, walking away from the door and up to you and Sam. He nodded his head, giving the woman a softened expression. “I did all those horrible things… when I turned.”

“You didn’t know.” Sam said, trying to comfort the woman.

A moment of silence passed between the both of them; you were wondering what had gotten into them, but the ends of your lips were beginning to crawl into a smile. Madison and Sam were staring at one another, deep into each other’s eyes. You lingered your attention over to Dean, who seemed to have slowly grow uncomfortable with what was happening around him.

“So when will we know for sure?” You asked, breaking the young lovers out of their stare. A scarlet color began to grow across Sam’s cheeks, you kept a snicker from escaping your lips at his embarrassment. “Moonrise?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Sam corrected you, turning his attention to Madison. “You turned in the middle of the night last night. I think we got to hang in until sunup.”

“Well,” Dean spoke up, turning the attention to him. “Looks like we got ourselves a few hours to kill. Poker, anyone?”

\+ + +

You never realized how much you’d missed another female company until you sat down and talked to Madison. For the first hour it was sort of awkward, making small talk to pass the time, but soon, the both of you were like a bunch of school girls. It seemed that it was easy to distract her from the past few days as the both of you recollected on old memories, deep secrets that steamed from old relationships and things that happened on the road. Someone like Madison was hard to find. She was sweet, down to earth, and knew exactly what it was like to battle with her inner demons. Deep down, you wanted this to work.

It sounded selfish, but you could see Sam and Maddie as a cute couple; the both of them had past problems. The way they looked at one another. You could almost picture them meeting up after weeks being on the road, how much happiness that would spread across on her face. You would love to have a friend, someone who knew about this lifestyle, but wasn’t a man. You needed someone that reminded you everything was going to be okay. Maybe Madison would be that for Sam and you. You slipped your hands underneath your thighs, crossing your fingers when you saw the clock tick to 11:11 on the digital clock. If Madison could cure herself of this evilness, so could you.

Your attention lingered on the full moon outside for a few moments before you dropped it down to Dean, who’d been sitting across the room. He reached a hand inside his jacket and pulled out his gun, putting it on the table beside him. Noticing the attention from you and Madison, he gave the both of you a smile. “Oh, no, you girls talk.” He said. You looked back at the woman, giving her a small smile before you saw Sam reappear, taking a seat right next to the woman, knowing she wasn’t going to go at this alone.

\+ + +

There might have never been more of a wonderful scene that the morning sunlight at dawn. You stood with your arms crossed over your chest to see the hues of pink and purple painted in the sky, clouds slowly breaking apart for the rays of sunlight to pour through the open window. You glanced at Madison to see her face was full of hope, in the past several hours, she remained perfectly calm. There was no sign she was going to change, she was human again.

“Does—Does this mean it worked?” She asked the three of you with nervousness.

“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding his head. “I think so.”

Madison let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing at the news. You couldn’t help yourself but let a smile spread across your lips when you saw the woman lean forward, wrapping her arms around Sam’s body, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh, God, thank you. Thank you so much.” She whispered, burying her face into his chest. The moment only lasted between the two for a moment before Dean, being his narcissistic self, cleared his throat. You threw him a glare and elbowed him in the side from the rude interruption. “You too, Dean. Y/N. Thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it.” Dean said, flashing the woman a toothy grin. But he slowly dropped the smile after a moment, replacing it with a sigh. “Yeah.”

“So,” You spoke up, giving Sam and Madison a small smile. Wrapping your hands around Dean’s arms, you knew from the looks in their eyes, it was time to go. You yanked him backwards, making the both of you start walking for the front door. “We’re just gonna head back to the hotel to take a nap or something. Have fun kids!”

With a slam of the front door, you let out a soft giggle, looking at Dean with a look in your eye, suddenly feeling a kid who’d just thought of a dirty joke. He seemed to have followed in your actions, letting a smile spread across his lips as the both of you went down the hall, walking in sync. “Let’s go, sweetheart. I don’t know about you, but sleep is really what you need. Or else you ain’t gonna be lucky as Sammy.” You slapped a hand against his chest, letting out a quiet laugh when you saw your reflection in the window you passed by. For once, Dean might have been right.

\+ + +

Sleeping never seemed more like a luxury as you buried your head deep into the pillows. Almost three days of running around like a mad woman, never having a moment of sleep that wasn’t longer than three hours. The caffeine you’d been chugging had been slowly wearing off, making a hazy feeling set inside your mind. You rolled onto your back and let out a sigh of happiness; the TV buzzed lowly in the background, hearing a recorded laugh track echo through the bedroom as the other mattress shifted from underneath Dean’s weight. The birds chirped in the background, peeking their head out when the winter air was beginning to grow a bit warmer, knowing the signs of spring were slowly beginning to peek through.

Somehow, in this moment, this was the most safe you’d felt in a long time. Sammy was having a good time like he’d deserved. Dean was sleeping peacefully across the room from you. It seemed to be one of those rare moments when you believed that everything could have been okay. Maybe this could be a memory to keep close when things shifted back to the dark, lonely nights. You needed something—a sense of hope—to keep close. 

You twisted around in the sheets, dragging them closer to your body as your body began to sink deeper into the mattress. Just as you found yourself finding the lull of sleep calling your name, that’s when it happened. Reality caught up with you, after all.

Banging on the motel door caused your eyelids to be ripped open. A moment of panic washed over your body, knowing whatever amount of sleep you’d thought about snagging went straight out the window. You slowly pushed yourself up into a sitting position as the noise grew louder with each passing moment. Dean followed behind in your actions and was still, wondering who it could have been. Your heart sank when you heard the familiar voice of the younger Winchester coming from the other side of the door. From the tone of his voice, how frantic and loud it was becoming from the lack of attention, you knew this wasn’t good news.

You shoved the tangled blankets off and swing your legs over the bed, following behind the oldest brother as the both of you head to the door, wondering what was going on. Dean unlocked the deadbolt and swung open the door; there stood Sam, messily dressed and panting heavily from the long walk back to the motel. The older brother was throwing questions around before Sam could even open his mouth, inspecting every inch of him to see if there was any marks on his body. You stood on your tippy toes to see a black and bluish color forming on his cheek, as if he was shoved against the wall. You dropped yourself back down on the ground, suddenly knowing what he was here for.

“It’s Madison.” Sam managed to speak, he swallowed before finishing. “She changed.”

“What?” Dean asked with shock. 

“I couldn’t grab her in time.” Sam admitted, his voice dropping in guilt. 

Your temper was becoming short, but you breathe loudly through your nose. An almost forced, pitiful smile spreads across your lips. “We’ll find her, Sammy.” You managed to be cheerful in your almost, almost believing for a split second everything was going to be okay. But deep, deep down, you know it’s all a lie just to keep the man from cracking under the pressure. A little voice is taunting you, whispering in a childlike voice: I told you so.

\+ + +

Your shoes and jacket were shoved back onto your body with rush. You didn’t even care about your hair that was probably standing on their ends from rolling around in bed and the wound on your cheek, which was probably scabbed over by now. The repeated thought of finding Madison was screaming inside your head as you followed behind the brothers, heading down the motel steps from the room. You had never hunted a werewolf before, let alone, try and cure a beast of the night. It seemed that all of you might have been wrong of who attacked Madison. They were still out there. And so was she.

“I already called Bobby.” Sam started explaining the contacts he went through. You thought the older hunter would have known something, but like the bad luck that seemed to have been following, the answer didn’t leave a good feeling in the pit of your stomach. “He doesn’t know anything, except he knew severing the bloodline wouldn’t work. They all say it’s impossible to reverse it.”

"How come she didn’t turn when we were with her?” Dean asked, taking the last step before joining the both of you down on the sidewalk. “You put her to bed and then she wolfed out.”

“Maybe she has to be asleep to turn.” You thought, knowing she’d behaved the same way the previous night. She had somehow fallen into a deep slumber before waking up into the werewolf.

Sam seemed to have been a short fuse of a temper, stopping in his tracks and stared at you. It seemed what you were asking seemed nothing but unimportant facts he didn’t have time to answer. “What the hell does it matter?” He questioned you and his brother. “We got to find some way to help her, some legend we missed.”

“Don’t you think someone would have known something?” Dean asked, trying to be the level headed one here. But you could tell from his own voice, the patience was running thin.

“Then we have to look harder until we find something.” Sam stated.

“Sammy,” Dean’s voice dropped into a lower tone, “I don’t think we got a choice here anymore.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“She’s a sweet girl, but part of her is—”

“Evil?” Sam cut off his brother, wondering if that was what the man meant to say next. Of course, you watched as Dean nodded his head in agreement. Sam’s lips twitched into a forced smirk knowing the answer was exactly what’d he expect from the man. “That’s what they say about me, Dean. So you won’t kill me, but her, you’re just gonna blow away?”

Before the conversation could continue anymore, your attention shifted to the ringing cell phone Sam pulled out from his jacket pocket. He hit the send button and pressed it to his ear. The voice on the other end made you stare at the phone in surprise. “Sam?”

“Madison, where are you?” Sam managed to say her name, bolting for the Impala that was parked just across the street. You tried following behind the man as quick as your legs could take you. As you opened up the backseat to the car, you heard the last snippet of the conversation before he ended the call. “Hold on, Maddie. We’re coming to get you. Just stay where you are.”

\+ + +

Your fingers were tightly woven together in your lap, the pressure you were knuckling was beginning to make your skin turn red from the pressure. But your focus was kept on that damn gun. You stared at the pearl white grip and the details on the side as you traced it with your mind. It wasn’t for show, it was a warning for the possible outcome. Madison was sitting in the chair, right across from the table, her eyes were focused on the ground. All of you were back at her apartment after safely finding the woman not far into town.

“I don’t remember anything.” She admitted, breaking the silence which seemed to have fallen over the four of you. “I probably killed someone last night. Didn’t I?”

You and Sam were still remaining quiet, only giving the woman a crooked smile from her question. Dean stared at the both of you for a moment before trying his hardest to answer. “There’s no way to know yet.” He admitted in a steady voice.

“Is there something else we can to make it go away?” She asked, staring at the older man.

“We’ll find something.” You spoke up for the first time since arriving. Sudden your voice is full of optimism, you give the woman a smile. “There’s got to be an answer—somewhere.”

“That’s not entirely true. Madison, you deserve to know.” Dean, always the one to break the bad news, stops the sudden rush of hope. You stare at him, knowing what he’s about to say next is just the truth she needs to hear. But your heart feels like someone’s squeezing it. “We’ve scoured every source. There’s just no cure.”

Madison turned her focus on his little brother, "Is—Is he right?“

Sam feels nothing more like a deer in headlights when everyone stares at him. You watch as he jumps up from his seat, knowing all kinds of emotions are pounding inside his head right now. Time is running out for an answer. "Well, we could lock you up at night, but…you bust out, and some night you will—someone else dies.” Dean tries to help the situation with a plan, but the truth keeps spilling out, making him out to look like the bad guy. But you know deep down, he’s always been the one with a level head to the right thing. “I’m sorry. I am.”

Madison falls silent from the news. You hear her sniffle a few times before letting out a quiet sigh, her sign of admitting defeat. “So, I guess that’s all there is to it, then.” She says, acting as if she’s ready to bite the bullet. You stare at her with astonishment. 

“Stop it.” Sam nearly hisses at the woman. You know he’s the one who wants her to fight this, find a way to cure her animalistic side. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Sam, I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” Madison admitted in a tired, defeated tone. When she speaks again, her voice cracks as the tears begin to threaten downfall. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Madison reached out a hand, wrapping her fingers around the gun and lifting it up. You could tell she was nothing more than serious, getting up from the chair, and heading directly over to the taller man. “Put that down.” He whispered, shaking his head from what she was about to do.

“I can’t do it myself.” She said. Pushing the handle of the gun into his chest, she tried persuading the man again. You could tell it was taking everything in her to be strong. “I need you to help me.”

“Madison, no.” Sam tried again, but the woman wouldn’t stop.

“Sam.” She says the man’s name, speaking the words nobody has said until now. You can feel your nails dig into the flesh of your skin, hard enough to prick and leave imprints when you run the tips of your fingers over it. “I’m a monster.“

"You don’t have to be.” Sam said. “We could find a way, all right? I can. I’m gonna save you.”

Madison shook her head, “You tried. I know you tried. This is all there is left.” She says, tears beginning to come back in her eyes when she tries to persuade the man to save her from herself, the innocent lives she could take next. “Help me, Sam. I want you to do it.”

“I can’t.” Sam says, his tone becoming harder.

“I don’t want to die. I don’t. But I can’t live like this.” She admits, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks. A small, smile spreads across her face knowing this was the right thing to do. “This is the way you can save me. Please. I’m asking you save me.”

You stared at Sam for the longest time, wondering what he was going to do next. This might have been the most personal thing he’d have to do. You know you couldn’t do it. Madison was almost human to you; she wasn’t in her werewolf form, spazzing out like a monster and threatening to kill someone. She was just standing there in the middle of her living room like an innocent woman. You thought what was making Sam so hesitant because it was like pulling the trigger on a random person on the street, on the one person he found himself falling for in just a short amount of time. He wanted to save her from a monster, save her from herself. But he couldn’t do it. You knew it would be like killing himself. He knew the monster was coming, but the wait was brutal.

From the corner of your eye, you see a figure move. You turn your head to see Dean had gotten up from the table he was sitting on, walking behind Madison, but keeping his attention on his little brother. You could see the man gently take the gun away from the woman. No matter what happened, it seemed that Dean was always pushed into doing the right thing. You knew it was going to sting like a bad wound for him, killing Madison, but it needed to be done.

You watch as Sam doesn’t say anything to either one of them; he just slowly walks away, heading for the front door. You make eye contact with the older brother for a moment before you turn around on your heels, following behind Sam. Rounding the corner, you stumble upon Sam with his back turned to you. It takes only a few moments of silence to hear the muffled sniffles he’s giving away. You press a hand to your mouth, trying your hardest to swallow a sob that threatens to escape your throat. You force yourself to take a few deep breaths, knowing this is killing the younger man even more. It just hurts to see him like this, always broken down from finding someone he almost could see himself loving.

“Sam.” You speak up, your voice was barely louder than a whisper. You can hear footsteps coming from behind you, announcing Dean’s arrival. "I’m so sorry.”

The younger man turns around; his eyes are bloodshot and cheeks are stained. Just the sight of him makes a hazy fog cloud over your eyesight. “No, he’s right.” Sam sniffled out. “She’s right.”

“Sammy, I got this one.” Dean offered with a soft, low tone. “I’ll do it.”

“She asked me to.” Sam said, suddenly on board with the previous plan.

“You don’t have to do this.” You mumbled, shaking your head.

“Yes, I do. Please.” Sam said. Even though it was giving him the worst amount of pain, this was Madison’s death wish, he knew it had to be done. He reached out a hand, waiting for his older brother to give the gun. Dean was hesitant for the longest amount of time, but after a moment, he finally forfeited over the weapon. “Just wait here.”

You can see the man’s shaking with nervousness; Sam stands there for just a second before you watch as he heads back to the living room where he sees Madison sitting with her back turned to him. You take one more glance at the man before you’re forced to face the opposite side of the wall, finding everything suddenly overwhelming. Crossing your arms over your chest, you can hear the footsteps echo off the walls from the other side of the room.

Everything seems to suddenly seems to be going in tedious slow motion; you’re waiting for the noise, the banging. Seconds feel like minutes. You take a moment to stop staring at the wall and crank your head to make eye contact with the man right across from you. You swallow, trying your hardest to keep the tears from falling down. The both of you must look tired and overwhelmed with emotions. But after a minute, you know it’s been done. She’s dead like the hope you were clinging on to.

The gunshot echoes through the apartment.

You knew it was coming, but it still made you jump out of your skin. Dean flinches himself, even though he’d heard the noise a million times, he still finds himself feeling like someone just shot an old friend of his. You quickly turn your head to stare at the wall, the hot tears fall down your cheeks as you muffle a sob after slapping a hand against your mouth from what just happened.

\+ + +

Muttered words and groans of panic escape your lips. Your fingers wrapped themselves around the comforter of the motel bed, gripping them until your fingers are becoming white. There’s no one here to save you from the night terrors that are plaguing your mind. Sam’s passed out after chugging almost a full six pack by himself after the mess he’d forced himself into. Dean probably somehow found a way to cope with all of this death and destruction that seems to follow. You tried your hardest to block out that image, but it won’t go away. You keep seeing Madison’s lifeless body, draped over the chair with Sam lingering over her, the smoking gun in his hand.. No matter what you do, it haunts you into the deep depths of your sleep, twisting itself into another nightmare.

It starts out almost like earlier this morning; Sam standing over Madison’s body. He cranked his head away from the dead woman and started staring at you. But there was something different about him. There wasn’t the same, guilt-ridden man you’d remember seeing. Instead Sam was staring at you with disgust The look in his eyes turn into a predatory gaze, like he had no remorse for what he’d done. Your first instinct is to try and run away from him, but as you turn around, Dean is right behind you. You can’t remember much about the nightmare. But it always ends the same; the brothers cornering you in a room, saying something out being a monster before they press the barrel of the gun directly at your forehead. And they pull the trigger.

You’re about halfway through the repeated dream when you feel someone’s hand rest on your shoulder, shaking your body awake. A sudden scream escapes your throat, eyes ripping themselves open from the surprise attack. You’re frozen in your spot when you’re face to face with Dean himself. He’s not staring at you like a creature he wants to kill. You can see in the lamp that’s next to your bed that his eyes are soft and full of worry. But you still feel on edge.

“Y/N, it’s just me.” Dean whispers, seeing the fear creeping along in your facial expressions. You force yourself into a sitting position on the bed, reaching up a hand to wipe away the cold sweat that seems to make your clothes stick. You curl up into a corner on the bed when the bed shifts in weight. You even flinch when the man tries to touch you again. “Did you have a nightmare?”

You nod your head, reminding yourself that this was real. He wasn’t going to hurt you. “I–I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” You ask, your voice was barely louder than a whisper when you realize these walls are paper thin. “Is Sam sleeping okay?”

A small chuckle escaped his lips, “Yeah. He’s passed out cold. You could scream in his ear and the boy wouldn’t even flinch. As for me, I was awake, anyway. Can’t really sleep.”

You wanted to say something about him being the lucky one, but you keep silent. You stare around the room for a room for a second before bringing your attention back to the man sitting in front of you. "Can I ask you something?” You can see him nod his head. The question burns in the back of your mind as the memory from your nightmare replays itself again. “What if I killed someone, Dean? What if I snap and turn evil like the yellow eyed demon says?”

Dean lets out a tired sigh, you knew this was a conversation he’s been dreading for months now. “Y/N, I’m not—”

“What if I turn into one of them, Dean?” You suddenly snap at the man, not knowing you were about to confess the deep secret you’ve been keeping for months now. “What if that demon is somehow trying to turn me into one of them? W—When Meg’s around, she keeps hinting with clues that I wasn’t normal. And what if she was right? Don’t you have to kill me like Madison?”

"There’s no proof out there, Y/N.” Dean tries to ease your mind. “You’re not evil—”

“But that’s what everyone keeps saying it about me! I’m a monster, too, Dean!” You scream at the top of your lungs. But as the words leave the tip of your tongue, you suddenly find yourself curling back down to the bed. You can feel the unwanted tears creeping into your eyes. “I really am a monster. My parents are dead because of me. Don’t I deserve to be punished for that?”

“Stop it.” Dean suddenly grabs you by your arms, making you look at him directly in the eye. You fall silent, wondering what his response was going to be. “You can’t beat yourself up over it. Nothing was in your control when that deal happened. Your mother paid the price, and unfortunately your father did, too. But she loved you, Y/N. She wouldn’t have done it if she wasn’t risking to spend the rest of her life in Hell. As for you being a monster, you’re far from it.”

You open your mouth, "But—”

“Y/N. Listen to me.” Dean drops his tone to a softer one. “You’re probably one of the most selfless and smartest woman I’ve met. And you know me, I’ve met a lot.” A small smile spreads across your lips from his sarcastic comment, making you feel a bit better. “But that’s why me and Sammy love you. You’re stronger than you think, you always have been. And we make sure that nothing bad happens to you. And whatever this yellowed eyed of a bitch wants with you, he has to go through a hell of a lot of people before coming near you.”

"How can do this?” You ask the man, blinking away tears. Suddenly you feel stupid for crying again. He wonders what you’re hinting at from his facial expressions. “Be so strong all time?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. He sits down at the edge of the bed. “Guess it’s just about being a big brother. I’ve always been the one to look at for Sam, make sure he’s okay. I find myself doing the same thing for you, too. But it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

You stare at the man for a moment; he’s looking at you too, but not in the way you are. You can see the amount of stress and damage this lifestyle can do to someone. And for all of his life, Dean’s been doing it just fine. You get up from the bed and walk over to the man, moving quick so he doesn’t catch on for what you’re about to do. Leaning down, you wrap your hands around his head and press your lips to his cheek for just a second before moving away. You can see him quickly turn to you. “Thank you.” You whispered, giving him a soft smile.

“For what?”

“For everything.”


	18. Hollywood Babylon.

You pushed down your sunglasses to block out what light there was outside and crossed your arms over chest in frustration. You didn’t know famous sights of Hollywood film sets was today’s afternoon waster. You tore your gaze away from the grown man that seemed to have been soaking up all the useless information some perky woman was rambling on about. Focusing on the hard workers of Hollywood; the sight of bodies were roaming around with either headsets and matching clipboards or roaming around set with a team trailing behind would have made most envious for the spotlight. You, on the other hand, kept trying to find ways out of this Hell on wheels that just kept going. None of you were supposed to be on this thing in the first place, but Dean promised you and his brother this would be a quicker route.

“Hey,” You turned your head back over at Dean to wonder what he drawn your attention away from this fabulous tour. “You know this is where they filmed ‘Creepshow’?”

You shook your head in annoyance from his useless information as you pushed up your glasses again. Sam looked over his shoulder at the both of you, Dean gave his little brother a thumbs up from the fun he was having, but neither one of you returned the feelings. “Come on.” Sam whispered, leading with another plan you were more than glad to join in. Swinging off the metal pole, you jumped off the cart without being caught.

“Let’s finish the tour!” Dean tried to shout, but came out nothing more than a whisper when he saw a few wandering eyes lead toward him in curiosity. But when he saw you and Sam standing there, waiting for him, Dean let out a sigh of annoyance and jumped off the van, heading up to the both of you. The three of you walked around the Hollywood sets, trying to find the exact one that lead all of you here in the first place. All though, it seemed someone from across the way seemed like a celebrity in disguise. “Sammy, check it out. It’s Matt Damon.”

You turned your head to see what Dean was pointing at; a grin spread across his face when he believed the Boston native was just a few yards from him. But all you could see was someone that looked almost like him from a quick glance. What he was doing made it seem he was just another worker. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s not Matt Damon.” You said, bursting the man’s dream of meeting someone famous while on this trip.

“No, it is Y/N.” Dean said.

“Well,” You begin, watching as the man went on his way from the three of you. “Matt Damon just picked up a broom and started sweeping.”

“Yeah, he was probably researching a role or something.” Dean tried saving himself with an excuse that made a chuckle escape your lips of how much he was trying to deny the truth.

“Uh, I don’t think so.” Sam jumped into the conversation for a moment, knowing his brother was drowning here. “Hey, this way. I think stage nine’s over here.”

You glance over at the warehouse that wasn’t too far from where all of you were heading over. But it seemed that not all of you wanted to buckle down to business. "Come on, man. Let’s keep going this way.” Dean said, pointing forward, all the way across the parking lot to a stage that was crawling with all sorts of people. You focused your attention on someone that must have been an extra, who was having a deep conversation with someone with makeup that looked like his throat was deeply slashed, clothes covered in blood. You shook your head and tore your gaze away from the sight, reminding yourself that it was just all for pretend.

“No, come on. We got to work.” You said, yanking him by his jacket sleeve and down another corner. Hearing him mumble something sarcastic underneath his breath, you dropped your arm and tossed him a dirty glare. “Hey, you wanted to come to L.A.”

“Yeah, for a vacation!” Dean yelled, proving his deeper motives that was making him out to be complaining about the situation he’d have no say in. Yet, again. “I mean, swimming pools and movie stars! Not to work.”

“Does this seem like swimming-pool weather to you, Dean?” Sam asked his brother, gesturing an arm around the scenery. “It’s practically Canadian.”

“Yeah. I just figured that, you know,” Dean brought up a touchy subject that seemed to have happened ages ago. It didn’t register that the events didn’t take that long ago. “After everything that happened with Madison, you and Y/N could use a little R&R, that’s all.”

Sam’s face dropped into an annoyed glare from the mention of the woman’s name, her corpse wasn’t even a week buried in the ground and someone was speaking of her name. You knew he was trying his hardest to forget everything that happened. “Maybe I want to work, Dean.” Sam muttered underneath his breath, his voice shifting to a defensive tone. “Maybe it keeps my mind off things.”

“Okay, okay, all right.” Dean said, putting his hands up in defense. He didn’t want to fight about this with his brother, so he decided to go along with the case if that was going to make his little brother happy. “So, this crew guy, what, did he—he died on set?”

“Yeah, rumors spreading like wildfire online.” Sam said. “They’re saying the set’s haunted.”

“Like 'Poltergeist’?” Dean curiously asked.

“Could be a poltergeist.” Sam mumbled, the pop culture reference flew over his head.

“No, the movie 'Poltergeist.’ You know nothing of your cultural heritage, do you?” You asked the younger man. Sam looked down at you and shrugging his shoulders, you let out a small laugh from his lack of knowledge on this kind of topic. “It was rumored that the set of 'Poltergeist’ was cursed, they used real human bones as props. At least three of the actors died in it.”

"Yeah,” Sam agreed, “Might be something like that.”

“Alright, so this crew guy.” Dean said, bringing the conversation back to the case. “What’s his name?”

“Frank Jaffe.” Sam answered.

“You got a death certificate or a coroner’s report?” Dean asked.

“Well, no, but it’s L.A., you know? That might not even be his real name.” You said. Everything about this town was fake, so why not add a fake name to the mix. “But the girl who found him, she said she saw something—a vanishing figure.”

“What’s the girl’s name?” Dean asked the both of you.

“Uh,” Sam tried to remember off the top of his head, “Tara Benchley.”

“Whoa, Tara Benchley?” Dean suddenly stopped in his tracks, the look on his face was priceless. A grin spread across his face when he realized the B-List celebrity he was about to meet. “From 'Feardotcom’ and 'Ghost Ship’ Tara Benchley? Dude, why didn’t you say so?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you could feel a smile spread across your face, “So now you’re suddenly on board? God, you’re such a nerd!”

“I mean, I’m a fan of her work.” Dean said, trying to hide his enthusiasm. You narrowed your eyes at him, watching him squirm for a way out of this conversation that was only becoming more awkward. “It's—It’s very good.”

Dean quickly dashed off and headed for the studio, you and Sam glanced at one another for a moment before following behind the man. The three of you headed inside the set, managing to duct just in time as the doors were about to close, probably a precaution for anyone to sneak inside before they shoot a scene. You wandered around the place to see almost everyone was running around the place, making sure the actors were perfected for makeup or the set was just right before they began to work again. What they were shooting was some cliched horror movie that had been done a million times over; a group of teens travel to the middle of the woods, find some old spell book and raise some spirits. Lots of gore and screams, you were presuming.

“Um, excuse me. Uh, green-shirt guy? Yeah, yeah, you. Come here.” You heard a male voice echo from across the room. You turned your head to see a man standing across the room, wagging a finger at Dean. The older Winchester pointed at him, the suit nodded. Dean trailed forward to the man, wondering what he wanted. “Can you get me a, uh, smoothie from Craft?”

“You want a what from who?” Dean asked, not sure what was going on.

The suit chuckled, almost amused for a moment. “You are a P.A. This is what you do.”

You could tell a man like Dean wasn’t used to taking orders, let alone someone dressed in a expensive looking suit. So before he could blow this entire hunt and get all of you kicked out, you stepped into the conversation. You walked over to the group of men that must have been producers of this movie, giving them a big smile as you slapped a hand on Dean’s chest, stopping him from whatever dumb move he thought was an appropriate reaction. “Yeah, he, uh,” You chuckled, swallowing before looking at the suit. “One smoothie coming right up.”

The both of you walked away from the conversation without a problem. You and him were a decent amount away from the men before Dean asked, “What’s a P.A.?”

“Personal assistants.” You answered, glancing back at the group to see if they were paying attention. When they weren’t, you focused back on the man. “They’re kind of like slaves.”

\+ + +

The set was still buzzing with life fifteen minutes later when Dean ran off to the smoothie run and Sam was off talking to the crew on finding what he could dig up on this Frank. You were lingering in the background, trying to keep yourself out of the way, which wasn’t much of a problem as you blended into the background. But what caught your attention was the staircase leading to the balcony above the set, probably for the lights and what not. All though, traveling up to such a high distance always made your stomach turn in nervousness. Heights was something you were never quite comfortable to deal with, even with everything you’ve been through on this trip. It was almost laughable of how much of a phobia it could be. 

You glanced around a few times to see if anyone was around before you got the courage to travel up. You’d managed to sneak away and grab an EMF reader for a situation like this to arise, and you weren’t going to let the opportunity slip away. The place seemed to have been clear of any crew or actors to disturb this moment. You grabbed a hold of the metal railing and began to quietly head up the staircase. Just as you made it up a few steps, you reached for the reader you’d stuck inside your pockets. When you touched the metal object, the sound of bells ringing and the lights shutting off made you freeze in fright of what was going on.

“Action!”

Of course. Knowing your luck that never seems to fail, you would choose the right time to sneak yourself right into a shot. You shoved a free hand into your pocket and pulled out a flashlight, making sure to turn it on before taking another step. Good thing you were prepared for just about anything. You made it up the staircase, trying your hardest to be extra quiet as you made it all the way up to the top. Taking a moment to see the view; you glanced down to see that you had almost a perfect bird's eye of the cast below as they were shooting a scene of Tara’s character chanting some Latin from a dusty, old book. Everyone seemed to have been so engrossed to see how this scene would develop, nobody knew of the stranger lingering above.

You examined what you could see without being caught, there wasn’t much that seemed out of place, no human bones. But the real test would be when you started scanning the place. You forced yourself to drop down toward a crouch for what you were about to do next; you stuck out a hand and began slowly waving around the reader in the air, seeing what you could find. The only sound you were hearing was a soft buzzing that wasn’t getting you much hope that something was here. You turned your head to scan more of the scenery, what happened next wasn’t something you weren’t expecting. A scream of surprise nearly escaped your throat as you jumped in fright from whom you saw lingering next you, acting as if you knew he was there the entire time.

“What the hell, Dean? You scared me half to death.“ You hissed at the man, yanking your arm back to your side. You shoved the reader back into your pockets, glancing back over at the man when was silent. Dean seemed to have been preoccupied with other people as he peeked his head down the railing, his attention stuck on Tara. You let a small smirk spread across your lips from how he was acting. "Come on, Loverboy. I don’t think those smoothies are going to deliver themselves now, aren’t they?”

You knew that caught his attention when he glanced back over at you, an annoyed glare spreading across his face from the comment you made. A small chuckle escaped your mouth as you pushed yourself up to your feet, heading down the steps with Dean following behind. You and him wandered around, waiting for Sam to return from his own duties. But you knew it was just a matter of time before Dean discovered the buffet table that was meant for cast and crew only, his excuse was that someone mistook him for a P.A. as he stuffed his face full of free food.

Luckily Sam seemed to have known where to find the both of you after digging up what he could find about the history of this place. “No EMF anywhere.” You said, starting off the conversation as you pushed yourself off the table you were leaning on. Sam looked a little disappointed from your findings, but you wondered if he had struck something good. “So, what do you think?”

“Well, I think being a P.A. sucks, but,” Dean piped into the conversation, making you turn your head and give the man a glare. “But the food these people get? Are you kidding me? I mean, look at these. They’re like miniature philly cheesesteak sandwiches.”

“That’s because they are, idiot.” You said, gesturing a hand to the label next to it.

“Whatever. They’re delicious.” Dean said, grabbing a third one before offering it to his brother.

Sam looked at the piece food for a moment before glancing up at his brother, “Maybe later.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, he took a hearty bite of the sandwich and chewed a few times before letting a scrap of steak hang from his mouth. “What did you find about the dead crew guy?” He asked, before continuing to chew the food and swallow.

You and his little brother might have stared at the man, a little mix of astonishment and disgust from how he was acting. Sam broke his concentration, shaking his head a few times before answering the question. “Uh, Frank Jaffe was just filling in for the day. Nobody here knew him or where he lived or anything.”

“Oh, great.” You muttered underneath your breath. “So you found out about as much as I did.”

“Hey, guys.” You turned your head to see someone from crew reaching over to grab a few things for a quick lunch. You returned the smile he gave the three of you, stepping out of the way so he could grab whatever he needed before heading off.

“Oh, hey. They’re wonderful.” Dean said, pointing at the steak sandwich the man snatched before walking away. You rolled your eyes from the man’s strange fixation on this food that he seemed to be trying to push on everyone around him.

“Listen. I did dig up some stuff about stage nine’s history.” Sam said. Being as smart as he was, you could always count on him to find the good stuff. “Four people died messy here over the past eighty years—-two suicides and two fatal accidents.”

“Well, any one of them could be a spirit.” You pointed out.

Sam nodded his head. “Yeah. Now we just got to narrow it down more.”

“I’ll get right on that.” You heard Dean mutter, almost seeming like he was caught up in his own thoughts. You glanced around to see what was keeping his attention, all before landing on the brunette herself. Tara Benchley walked off the set, smiling at a few people as she went right to her chair. You stepped out of the way, allowing Dean to do his thing.

You crossed your arms over your chest and stood next to Sam, watching as his brother effortlessly slid himself right next to Tara. A small scoff escaped Sam, almost like he was waiting for the man to screw up. You glanced away from the sight and fixate your eyes on the younger man. An idea popped inside your mind as a smirk spread across your lips.

“Hey Sammy, feel like losing a few bucks?” You curiously asked the man. That seemed to have caught his attention, you knew this was going to be fun and too easy. “I bet you a hundred bucks at the end of this hunt Dean’s gonna be obsessed with this P.A. gig. Plus he’s gonna trying and make a serious move on Tara.”

“Come on, Y/N. You think someone like Dean is gonna stoop that low?” Sam asked with disbelief. You knew the man had known his older brother, but you had a strong feeling on this one. The behavior of handing out the smoothies, how much he was interacting with the crew like he was one of them, you knew this was too good to be true.

“Do we have a deal or not, Winchester?” You questioned the man, holding out your hand.

Sam didn’t bat an eye before reaching out and gave you and firm, handshake. “Oh, you’re on.” He said, with the most serious tone of voice. You let out a small laugh, turning your attention back to Tara and Deen that had been taking all of this time. A sigh escaped your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest. "Y/N, you do realize our own lives are pretty boring if we’re going to stoop this low just to entertain ourselves. You know that, right?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes, knowing he was nothing short but right. You tried thinking of a witty comeback to throw at the man, but you came up short. “Shut up, Sam.” You muttered. 

\+ + +

What’s the best way to get a Hollywood horror movie project off the ground? Create some newsworthy buzz of a haunted set, of course.

You and the brothers were beginning to wonder if this was the case you were chasing down after discovering the mysterious Frank, which turns out, wasn’t his real name. The older Winchester had discovered another identity while talking to Tara, who takes pictures of all the cast and crew members of each project she works on. Curiosity had gotten the best of you after you tracked down the stranger in the picture. He was currently residing not far from where set was, perfect for someone that worked odd sorts of roles, never quite knowing when the next one would be. You knocked on his front door, waiting a few moments until you saw the exact same man in the picture appear in your sight just a few seconds later.

“Gerard St. James?” Dean asked, a smirk spreading across from the answer he already knew that was coming. The man’s eyebrows furrowed slightly for a moment before he nodded his head.

“So, you’re still alive,” You pointed out the obvious before going for the fake identity of a man he played since yesterday before disappearing off the face of the earth. “And you’re not Frank Jaffe.”

“You were,” Dean couldn’t help himself but speak again, wanting to bring up a little known fact that’d been burning in the back of his mind since driving here. “You were desert soldier number four in ‘Metalstorm: The Destruction of Jared-Syn.’”

“I was.” Gerard said, nodding his head. .

A smile spread across the oldest brother’s lips from the right answer he was hoping to hear. “I knew I recognized you. I am a huge fan.” He said, letting out a laugh. You gave him an amused look, finding it almost comical of how he was running into all his favorite actors. “I mean, your turn as the tractor-crash victim in ‘Critters Three.’” But it ended with both of them repeating the same movie title in sync, making the both of them let out another chuckle from what had just happened.

“Hey, well, please. Come in.” Gerard said, stepping out of the way so the three of you could join the man. You smiled at the man, leaning forward to the top step of the doorway before heading inside the house with the brothers following behind.

You wandered around the place for a few moments after you heard Gerard excuse himself to make all of you a cup of coffee. You found yourself drawn to a wall that held old headshots of the actor and the vast ranges of roles he could play. From what you were presuming was a college professor to a farmer that liked to dress up like a depressed clown in his free time, you cocked your head to the side as your eyes trailed down to the other photographs that hung on the wall. As you glanced over to the side when you saw something come from the corner of your eye, you quickly reached out a hand to take the warm mug from the man before you thanked him.

“Yeah, it was the producers.” Gerard said, not denying the suspicion all of you had threw on him before. It seemed that this wasn’t really a case that your attention, it was just some cheap publicity stunt. As he explained, you blew on the drink as you watched the man hand over two more cups for the brothers. “I mean, they brought me in for the day to play Frank.”

"Just to fake your death?” You asked the man, walking over and taking a seat next to Sam on one of the couches, curious to see what his excuse was for this role was all about.

“Well, rumors of a haunted film set,” Gerard said, plopping himself down on a worn out loveseat just across from you. “Free publicity, especially when you’re making a horror movie—I mean, it’s already all over the internet.”

“Yeah, we know. ” Sam mumbled, cracking a smile at the man as a chuckle came out. You felt sort of silly jumping the gun so easily on this one. Turns out this all was just harmless.

“These days, it’s all about new media, building buzz.” Gerard explained, you nodded your head. Technology was advancing every day along with news media, it was only fair for Hollywood try and keep up with the fast pace. But you could feel your eyebrows furrow from the similarity someone thought was appropriate. “They say I’m the new ‘lonelygirl15.’”

You heard Dean ask the man who he was talking about, obviously not getting the reference since he didn’t keep up on today’s pop culture. But you ignored it as Sam threw another question at Gerard that was making him curious for the answer. “And the ghost Tara saw?” Sam asked him.

“Projected on a screen of diffusion.” Gerard answered.

“Call me old fashioned, but isn’t that kind of cruel?” You asked the man, crossing your legs as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Messing with their heads like that? I mean, I’m all for a good prank, but you really could have hurt someone.”

“Hey, I just play the part. I don’t write the script. Speaking of,” Gerard changed the subject, you shrugged your shoulders at his answer and brought the cup to your lips. As he continued talking, you watched as he put down his coffee on the table and began searching through papers. “I’m playing Willy in a dinner-theater production of 'Salesman’ at Costa Mesa all next month. Get a free pepper steak with a coupon.”

Dean grabbed the piece of paper and inspected it for a few moments. But a chuckle escaped him when a thought crossed his mind of a complication that might come up in the actor’s plan. "Well, now, wait a second. If you’re seen in public, won’t that ruin the hoax?”

“Oh, please.” Gerard laughed out, seeming to believe all of this was just about parts and nobody was going to recognize him. “Frank and Willy—Totally different characters.”

You smiled at that man, nodding your head as you pretended to agree with his thought. “You know what? Thanks very much, Mr. St. James.” You said, getting up from the seat as you leaned down to place the cup on the table. You glanced over at the brothers, giving them a look that it was time to make an escape. “It was just nagging at us. But we're—we’re very glad, you know, you’re alive and well.”

The men followed in your actions and pushed themselves up from their seats. You gave the man another smile as you reached out a hand to shake before dropping it back to your side. Just as you glanced over your shoulder and caught sight of the door, you turned your attention back at the man standing on your left when he spoke up.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you. What was it like working with Richard Moll?” Dean asked. Your face scrunched up from confusion as Sam gave his brother a look, wondering if he really had just popped out that question. “He’s from 'Metalstorm.’ He was Hurok, King of the cyclop’s people.”

“Gentleman’s gentleman.” Gerard said, seeming to shrug it off.

“Yeah?” Dean chuckled out, a smile spreading across his lips as he glanced down at the flyer that was still in his hands. “All right. Pepper steak.”

You couldn’t help but grow a smirk as you grabbed the paper, “You’re such a nerd.”

\+ + +

Whatever doubts that was surrounding this case before could be crushed from what you discovered. Early this morning, while doing some research, you stumbled upon an article that was written about one of the producers of the movie. The title caught your attention as you began reading. It turned out the suit you’d met on the set decided to commit suicide. Reports had said he had wrapped a noose around his neck and plunged right into the middle of filming. You knew from the quotes you read about his co workers, this wasn’t something he would have done. He was dedicated about this movie. You weren’t sure what to believe, but it wouldn’t hurt to stick around and see what you could dig up.

Sam had left you and his brother back at the studio, probably going to try and find whatever he could about the dead producer. You kept yourself out for the most part, watching the actors shoot scenes and the crew running around to make sure that things were perfect. It was surprising what you could get away with when you carried around a clipboard and a serious glare from anyone that dared question who you were. You tried tracking down where Dean was, wondering what he could have been up to. As you wandered to the cabin set where everyone was trying to shoot a scene, you of course saw the man standing with his headgear and munching down on some food he grabbed from the table.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him, reaching to grab whatever he was eating. You leaned over to see the director and Tara were talking. You could see the stress forming on her face, probably from what she had been going through. As you opened your mouth to ask Dean a question, he had the nerve to shush you, obviously wanting to hear what Tara had to say. You narrowed your eyes at the man as a warning. Dean nervously swallowed before shifting his attention to the set.

“I just can’t wrap my head around the dialogue, you know? ‘Salt’—doesn’t that sound silly?” She asked the director, shrugging her shoulders as she forced a smile. “I mean, why would a ghost be afraid of salt?”

“Okay, um, Marty” The director tried thinking of another possibility as he looked to the writer for help. “What do you think?”

“Not married to salt. What do you want?” He asked the man, dragging his attention away from his cell phone and back to the pair that were desperate to change the script. “We still sticking with condiments?”

“Mmm, it just sounds different, not better.” The director said, crossing his arms over his chest. You saw one of the other assistants frantically flipping through his script. “What else would a ghost be scared of?”

You wondered if this conversation was really happening. Didn’t anyone bother with a bit of research before doing a horror movie? "Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” You muttered underneath your breath, knowing how much a trainwreck this movie was going to become if nobody took this seriously.

The director turned around to look at the writer, his face dropped at the answer when he suggested shotguns. “Okay. That makes even less sense than salt.” He said. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, seeming to have given up hope that this movie was even going to see a release date.

You could see that you weren’t the only one fed up with the mediocre writing when you watched as the assistant from before stormed off, mumbling something about everyone being an idiot. And you couldn’t agree more with his point of view. You turned your head just in time to see Sam coming back from his own adventures. He watched as the man wandered off in the sea of trees before turning his attention on the both of you, wondering what just happened. You shrugged your shoulders, taking another piece of food and munching a bite out of it.

“Walter’s as little testy for a P.A., huh?” Dean asked, acting as if you personally knew him.

“How’s it going here?” Sam asked his brother, wondering if there was progress to see if there was any sort of activity that would explain what was going on.

“Really good,” Dean started. But as he continued talking, you knew the man was way off in this thinking. “Tara has stepped up her performance and I think it’s from the sense-memory stuff.”

“Sense memory?” Sam questioned his brother, the other man nodded his head. “Dean, you know, when I ask how it’s going here, I’m talking about the case, right? We don’t really work here. And you know, I thought you hated being a P.A.”

You knew the bet was leaning to your favor when you glanced down at the almost like fanny pack clipped around Dean’s waist. The man sheepishly smiled, knowing he had been caught up in the role he onced thought was degrading. “I don’t know. It’s not so bad.” He admitted to the both of you. “I kind of feel like part of the team, you know? Oh, taquito? They’re wonderful.”

“No. Um, listen.” Sam said, glancing around to see if there was anyone around that could possibly eavesdrop on the conversation. He saw that everyone was working, so it was the perfect time to explain what he found. “I conned my way into the morgue. News reports are right. Brad’s a doornail—no question.”

“Copy that.” Dean said, you furrowed your eyebrows from what he just said. He must have known about the looks you and his brother were giving him once he snapped out from whatever was distracting his attention from before. “Sorry. What?”

“'Copy that’?”

“What did you say?”

“The news reports are right.” Sam tried again, hoping his brother would focus on the more important task at hand. “Brad’s a doornail.”

“They’re aware.”

“Who’s aware?”

“Sorry.” Dean managed to drag himself away from whatever conversation that was going between his new coworkers. He pushed down the microphone headset and looked at his brother, seeming to not notice the looks you and Sam were giving him. "What were you saying?”

“Uh, uh, the newspaper’s right.” Sam said, getting himself back on his own thoughts after being distracted. “Brad’s a doornail. No question about it.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t skip town.” Dean said, his voice almost cocky. You rolled your eyes from his attitude. But it seemed that he was working on this case, after all from what he brought up next. “Oh, come here. I want to hear something—Copy that. On my way.”

You turned your head to the taller man, a smirk spreading across your lips from what had unfolded. It seemed that you were right about Dean becoming obsessed with this job, that money was slowly calling your name. The both of you followed behind the oldest brother as he lead you to the man in charge of sound. He was currently occupying himself with jotting down some notes, not seeming to notice either one of you approaching before Dean called out the man’s name as he pushed the headset down so it rested on his shoulders.

“Hey, Dave. Can you play that thing you were playing me earlier?” Dean asked.

The man nodded his head, reaching for a pair of bulky headphones over to you. Mumbling a thanks, you placed them on and waited until the clip played. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not leaving till we find Wendy and her sister. Got it? Good. Now, let’s get busy.” You could hear the noise becoming distorted toward the end of the clip. You glanced over at Dean, knowing that you’ve heard this before—during the times a ghost was around, waiting to make a surprise appearance. You took off the headphones and handed them over to Sam, knowing he needed to hear this first hand. Dave rewound the clip and pressed play, letting the younger brother hear the noise.

You and the brothers were off once you knew this was just more evidence that there a serious haunting going on. There might have been a slim chance someone was messing around with the tapes, but it wouldn’t make sense. Most of the people thought basic remedies of how to keep away spirits were nothing more than laughable. You knew they couldn’t have been responsible.

“E.V.P.” Sam said, knowing that was what all of you heard on the tape.

“From the night of Brad’s stage dive. Y/N scanned the place when we first got here. Nothing. I do it this morning and all of a sudden, I’m getting electromagnetic readings up the wazoo.” Dean said as he walked in lead. “For some reason, it’s a legit haunting now.” 

“Well, who’s the ghost, Dean?” You asked him, knowing the man had been hanging around this place all day and interacting with all of the crew. “What’s it want?”

“I don’t know. But I think we should take a look at Brad’s death scene.” Dean suggests.

All of you managed to sneak off the set and head around the outside to see everyone wandering around, keeping busying with other projects around. You slipped into the trailer, shutting the door behind you as the brothers began to wander around the small area. As you opened your mouth to ask about the footage, your eyes wandered down to the plastic case in Dean’s hand. He walked over to the TV and dropped down to a crouch, popping in the disc to the player. You wandered over to the coffee table and took a seat on the edge, watching as the movie’s logo you seen a handful of times before pop on the flat screen. The colors of black and red were in full definition.

“Now, where’d you get this DVD?” You curiously asked the man, leaning yourself backwards as you placed each palm on the cold wood.

"They’re called dailies. I got it from Cindy.” Dean said, walking over to you and taking a seat. The screen popped up to a scene with one of the blonde actresses staring at some window, reciting a line. But your attention was drawn back to the man as he continued talking. “She’s kind of got this thing going with Drew. He dubbed me an extra copy.”

You nodded your head, pretending to be interested in the story. “Fascinating.”

“All right. Here’s where the guy fell through the roof.” Dean said, hitting the play button after rewinding for a few moments. You watched it quickly, noticing how one scene almost normal, all before a body comes shooting down right through the roof. You see the clip rewinds again before going back to the beginning one more time. “All right, here we go.”

You watched intently as the scene played out; someone was speaking a line, the blonde was staring out the window. But just in a few seconds flat—Brad’s body comes shooting from the roof, making everyone scream in surprise from what just happened. As the tape comes to an end, you could see something strange in the last few seconds of the glitches before everything turns black.

“Wait. Go back, go back.” Sam says, pointing at the screen. The clip rewinds a bit until it’s teetering toward the end. “Right after—right after—Yeah, right.” The clip keeps going until Dean stops at the perfect moment, showing what you were presuming was a woman dressed in a silk white robe. You squint your eyes and lean forward, knowing well enough you haven’t seen her around before.

“It’s like 'Three Men and a Baby’ all over again.” Dean said, making a reference either you or his brother seemed to be getting. “Selleck, Danson, and Guttenberg, and—I don’t know who played the baby.”

“What’s your point?” You asked.

“There’s a scene where people say that the camera caught a ghost on film.” Dean explained to the both of you. “Apparently, in the background of one of the scenes, there was this boy that nobody remembers. Spirit photography.”

Sam leaned forward in his seat, staring at the figure on the screen for a moment. “I’ve seen her before.”

\+ + +

You were back on the set, ignoring the amount of people that were keeping busying and the smell of paint fumes while someone from behind you painted a wall neon pink. You shuffled through all the information that Sam found on the four people that died here before an article of a young starlet was brought to your attention. As you read over the information, your attention was slowly being divided to the sight of Dean busying himself with making sure all the tech was ready to go and the article. Rolling your eyes, you tried to block out the static noise as you finished the reading a short moment later.

“Here.” You handed over the piece of paper to Dean, hoping he would be interested in reading the article instead of playing P.A. for another few minutes. “Check this out.”

“Yeah, go for Ozzie. No, I don’t have a twenty on Tara. I think she’s ten-hundred. Okay copy that.” Dean said to whoever was on the other end of the walkie talkie. You let out an annoyed sigh as you glanced over at Sam, knowing you were slowly losing your patience. “I’m sorry. What were you saying Y/N?”

“I’m gonna shove that microphone so far up your ass all your little P.A. buddies will be able to hear your heartbeat.” You threatened the man, waving around the piece of paper, hoping he would get a clue. “Just—would it kill you to freaking focus for five minutes?”

Dean seemed to have noticed your temper that was running short as he finally focused on the newspaper article you were dangling around. “Elise Drummond—starlet back in the thirties.” Sam started to explain, but dropped silent when you saw a few people from stage crew walk by. When they seemed to have gotten far enough away, he continued. “Had an affair with a studio exec. He uses her, fires her, leaves her destitute. Elsie hangs herself from the stage nine’s rafters right into a scene they’re shooting.”

“Just like our man Brad.” Dean said, putting the article back down to the table. “So, what, she’s got it in for the studio brass?”

“Possibly. I mean, it’s a motive,” Sam said, seeming to think this woman could have been the reason of what was going on. “And Brad’s death matches hers exactly.”

“We’re digging tonight, aren’t we?”

“Tell your P.A. buddies not to wait up for you.” 

\+ + +

Strolling through a graveyard in the middle of the night with a duffel bag hanging off your shoulder, that you were beginning to suspect weighed just as much as you, wasn’t exactly the plan you wanted to have. Of course you weren’t going to let an old Hollywood starlet start killing more people because she’s suddenly upset over what happened to her almost eighty years ago. What was bugging you about this case was the timeframe. You’ve heard about people keeping grudges for years. But why would a ghost suddenly pop up from the grave and kill someone? You heard the whispers crew that Brad was a bit of a dick. But you wondered why Elise suddenly came back from the dead to punish one person.

You must have examined at least a dozen headstones to find that none of them were the one you were looking for. Dean was the one holding the map of the cemetery you’d bought at some novelty shop. Some people travel to see the walk of fame, others want to see a dead celebrity’s grave. You could see in the dark shadows the older man pointing just across the field after you asked how much longer the search was going to be. As the three of you continued through the maze of headstones, you saw a particularly unique one; Humpty Dumpty was sitting on top of the headstone, making a chuckle of appreciation come from Dean when he noticed the humor.

“This map is totally worth the five bucks.” Dean said, scanning the other spots until one in particular popped out at him. “Hey, we got to go check out Johnny Ramone’s grave when we’re done here.”

“You want to dig him up, too?” You remarked, passing by another grave with someone carved in copperstone, showing them playing electric guitar as you flashed your light on it.

“Bite your tongue, Y/N!”

“Kiss my ass.”

“You know, guys, what I don’t get is, why now?” Sam brought the both of you back to the case, making you look forward to see where you going before you accidentally tripped. “I mean, after seventy-five years, Elise Drummond suddenly goes homicidal. You know, why this movie?”

“Well, maybe she’s mad they’re making a scary ghost flick.” Dean said, you rolled your eyes at his presumption. All of you wandered around just about a foot more until the grave was directly in front of all of you, ready to put this spirit to rest. “Here we go.” 

You took a step back and watched as the brothers got digging. This was the part you hated about the hunt, depending on how deep the grave was, it takes a few hours for them to finish up the work. Dean was finishing up the last of the grave with Sam crouched down next to you, watching the process unfold. When you heard the metal tip of the shovel hit something hard, you knew all of you were getting close. It took just a few more moments of digging before you could see the coffin come into view. You reached over to the duffel bag and handed him the crowbar to pry open the box. It took a few pushes before you heard the squeaky hinges echo into the night air as Dean pushed open the top. There laid Elise’s decomposed body, on display for the last time.

The routine of salt and burns was jammed into your head, you almost could do the process with your eyes closed; in goes the salt first, making sure there was enough to cover the body. Then the lighter fluid for the source of flames. And the last part was setting the fire. You struck the tip of the match against the box and watched as a small light eginite. This was your favorite part of the routine, the end. You threw the match into the grave and watched as the grave engulfed into red and oranges flames.

\+ + +

You thought walking into the set early the next morning would be nothing short of the normal routine. Of course, that didn’t seem to be on the agenda. The sight from across the yellow police tape was gruesome; the place was crawling with security and uniformed police officers thoroughly examined a white screen with blood spray all over it, soaked deep into the fabric. You were confused at everything that was going on. From the whispers that you could hear that were spreading like wildfire, it seemed another producer was killed by some sort of freak accident with a fan, tore him to pieces. But stuff like that didn’t happen, people nowadays were cautious. All of it made you begin thinking if there was someone else to blame.

“Run-in with a giant fan.” Sam muttered underneath his breath, a scoff escaped his mouth from the connection he was making. The three of you started walking away from the sight. “Same thing happened to an electrical back in ‘66—a guy name Billy Beard.”

“What the hell, dude?” Dean asked, taking another glance at the sight.

“I don’t know.” Sam admitted. “It doesn’t seem like Elise this time.”

“We already torched her. Are we dealing with another ghost?” Dean asked. All sorts of Strange things happened on these cases, you were beginning to wonder if a few ghosts were becoming friendly with one another. You shrugged your shoulders. “These things don’t usually tag-team.”

Walking out of the building, you were just in time to catch the sight of the director calling everyone for a huddle. You were curious to see what this was all about. There had been two deaths in the past week, that would have caused some panic for a few people if you were in their shoes. The director stood in the middle of the large crowd, he waited for everyone to slowly hushed down before speaking about what he called this meeting for.

“In light of Jay’s accident last night and in cooperation with the authorities, we’re shutting down production for a few days.” The director announced the situation. You could hear everyone groan from the news. “I know, I know. Look, I’m not going to lie to you. We’ve had a few setbacks this week. But we all know what Jay and Brad wanted more than anything. And that was to see ‘Hell Hazers II: The Reckoning’ on screens all across America. Now, we owe it to them to go on and to pull together and make this damn movie, huh?”

That caused everyone to cheer and clap, obviously pumped up from the motivational speech their boss had given them. It only lasted a few moments before he started shaking his head. “But not today. ” He said, waving for everyone to start heading out. “Go home. Someone will call you.”

\+ + +

Just because production was shut for the next few days, it didn’t mean the three of you could start slacking off. You and Sam had been going through each tape to see if there was any recurring signs to point of another existence of a spirit. You found on the third hour of going through this movie and flipping through research that you were getting a splitting headache from the bad acting and stress you were putting yourself on this case. It was bugging you to figure out what was going on. You felt like the clues were staring at you directly in your face, but you didn’t know what it was.

By the sixth hour of watching these outtakes, you feel like you were going to go insane. Luckily your attention was drawn away from the TV for a moment to see Dean come inside back from the long adventures of running around town to find about the man who’d died here over forty years ago. He headed over to the fridge, taking out a water bottle. You leaned over and put the papers you had been eyeing and placed the down on the table.

“So, you find out where the electrician’s buried?” You asked.

“He wasn’t.” Dean said, giving you both an answer that wasn’t leaving much hope for the situation to be wrapped up easily. “Billy Beard was cremated.”

“Great.” You muttered, throwing yourself back on the couch. “Now what?”

“No idea. Anymore ghost cameos in the dailies?” Dean asked, walking over so he could take a seat on the armrest.

“Not in the first six hours.” Sam said, watching as the same scene of Tara’s character reading from the book started again. You could almost recite each line perfectly from the amount of times you were forced to watch everyone screw up the scene. “Maybe the spirits are trying to shut down the movie ‘cause they think it sucks. ‘Cause, I mean, it kind of does.”

You let out a small chuckle from his sarcastic comments and watched the scene again. As you reached up a hand to wipe away the feeling of your eyes threatening to close from tiredness, the sight of the tape being rewound caught your attention. You glanced over to see Sam’s attention fixated on the TV, like he had just discovered something big. He hit the play button and listened as Tara started speaking the same Latin words, still rusty with her pronunciation.

“Listen to the invocation.” Sam said, urgency in his voice. You weren’t familiar with Latin and rituals as they were, but something about it seemed to be making your mind wonder what the similarity was all about. “Guys, that’s the real deal—a necromantic summoning ritual.”

“Let me guess this straight. They don’t think salt can be effective on ghosts, but they have this slipped in there like it’s nothing. What the hell is that doing in a Hollywood movie?” You asked, suddenly becoming very confused of what was going on. It might have been a writing issue that slipped through the cracks, but you were curious to figure out what was going on.

\+ + +

Since all of you had never left the studio, it was easy to track Marty, the writer of Hell Hazers, back down in his office. As you wandered down the hall, the sight of a P.A. scraping off the dead producer’s name of his door made you take a second look. He wasn’t even cold in the ground and they were already pretending like he was gone for weeks. You turned your attention back to the few remaining people on this project. You and the brothers lingered in the doorway, waiting ever so patiently as Marty wrapped up his conversation. It took a few moments before he finally got off phone and addressed the three of you.

“Guys, we’re all shut down.” Marty said, obviously not happy to see three P.A. assistants lingered out in his office during off hours. “What are you still doing here?”

“Really sorry, man.” Sam apologized with a smile, stepping into the room as you and his brother followed behind. “We—We couldn’t help ourselves. We just had to tell you that we read the script.”

You could see the smallest smile spreading across Marty’s lips. “And?” He asked. The brothers glanced over at one another for a moment before all of you stumbling mumbling out positive remarks, mostly all ending in awesome. “I know. It’s pretty rockin’, right? I’m glad you guys liked it.”

“Yeah. I really liked all the attention to detail.” You said, bringing up the reason why you were here in the first place. You flashed him another smile, but it faltered from what he said next.

“Dude, right on. That’s my thing.” He said. You really wanted to tell him he was a horrible writer that knew nothing about detail, but you kept your lips shut and let him finished speaking. “I mean, you know, color me guilty, but that is me. I’m a total detail buff.”

“No, I mean, the way you worked in all those enochian summoning rituals and all the authentic language.” Sam stepped into the conversation, but you knew you’d lost the man.

“What, you mean that Latin crap?” He asked all of you, making it realize he was just another clueless writer looking for another script idea to recycle for a hefty paycheck. Marty rolled his eyes, walking around so he was now taking a seat at his desk. “No, man. That’s Walter. Walter Dixon, the original writer. You like that garge?”

“Well, it’s better than your piece of cr—”

“Wait, Walter—the P.A. Walter?” Dean asked with slight confusion. That would explain why you saw the man get so upset during filming, he was right about everything, and they were nitpicking it like all of his hard work was for nothing.

“No, he’s not a P.A.” Marty said, correcting the man. “He’s got a clause in his contract that allows him to come on set.”

“But he wrote the invocations?” You asked for clarification.

“No. He wrote a wack job screenplay. There’s no pace. There’s no love interest. It’s all wackadoo exposition. I had to cut, like, ninety percent of it to make it readable,” Marty said, lifting up the original script. The horrible joke he said next made all of you force out a chuckle so he wouldn’t get offended. “And another ten percent to make it good.”

All though you were growing tired of the man’s arrogance, but you were curious to see what the fuss was all about. “Do you happen to have a few extra copies lying around, per chance?”

\+ + +

“You know, if someone were to take my original ideas and tear them apart right in front of my face, I would be pretty pissed.” You mumbled, flicking through the script. All of you were currently finding peace and quiet in the studio, abandoned from everyone by now. “And you know, they should have kept Walter’s original script. It’s actually pretty good.”

“Yeah.” Sam agreed, placing the script down on a prop table. “And it reads like a how-to manual of conjuration, like textbook on how to summon ghosts and get them to do whatever you want.”

You nodded your head, shutting the script when the thought crossed your mind. “Like kill people.” You said, seeming to wonder if this could be the route all of you were thinking “Okay. So let’s say somewhere down the line, Walter learned some pretty black magic.”

“And let’s say he’s pissed at these people for wrecking his movie.” Dean said, turning around in his seat so he could add on to your thoughts.

“Motives and means.” Sam pointed out.

You glanced down at the script one more time. “It’s worth checking out. And, you know, there’s another connection that’s been bugging me. Both producers, high above on this movie, are dead. Which leaves the writer and the director as prime targets, right?”

“Two down. One to go.”

\+ + +

“Meeting my ass.” You mumbled underneath your breath in frustration, slamming the office door behind you after discovering an empty office. Luckily one of the few crew members around here had noticed Marty heading back to the set for a business talk with Walter about a few choices he thought about to add more to the movie. But you knew that entire story was composed of lies, just something to lure the unsuspecting man to his death. The only problem that you were facing was trying to remember where the assistant said. Was it the cabin or woods set? The other two murders had taken place on the set of the woods area, you wondered if Walter was going there for the third and final time.

You tracked through the fake props of tree branches and dead leaves that were nothing more than a pain to go through. The brothers and you decided to split up, since this place seemed bigger either one of you had thought of before, there was a lot of grounds to cover with such a short amount of time. You decided to wander in the farthest spot from the spot the latest producer was killed in and work your way forward. All of you were finding was a terrible ache in your feet and a migraine from the spotlights above. You wondered why there were so many of the damn things still on. Whoever was playing the electric bill probably won’t be too happy, either.

Part of you will never understand why people flee to this town for their fifteen minutes of fame. All you got to see was apparent psycho writers taking revenge on people who destroyed his original work. And lots of terrible acting. “God,” You shoved a fake tree branch behind you, not caring when you heard the sound of it snapping and falling to the ground. You accidentally looked up, staring directly into another spotlight, causing the pounding in your head to get worse. “I can’t believe I’m doing this right now. I hate my job. I hate this freaking town.”

The echoing sounds of terrified screaming and gunshots following just seconds later brought you back into reality. You knew you weren’t that far away from the action, so you pushed through the mess until you found the sight you were looking for. Marty was lying on his backside, seeming to have dodge a familiar death of being shredded to death by the fan that seemed to have been triple your size. But before anything could happen, the spirit was gone from Dean taking a shot as Sam shut off the machine before anyone could have gotten hurt. It seemed you got here just in time.

“You’re are one hell of a P.A.” Marty commented, seeming happy enough for the rescue.

“Yeah, I know.“ Dean said, seeming as if he still was playing the role.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance and stepped onto the set, focusing your attention on Walter, who seemed to have been surprised from the change in his plans. "What are you doing?” He questioned all of you, slowly backing away toward the staircase that overlapped the entire set.

“We could ask you the same thing, Walter.” You were too far to catch the man, but from the way that he was heading, he wasn’t going too far. “Raising these spirits from the dead? Making them murder for you?” You reached up to find a piece of plastic pine stuck in your hair, you threw it out and sent a glare at the man from what he had been doing. “That’s playing with fire, Walter.”

“You don’t understand.” Walter said, shaking his head.

“You know what? You’re right. I don’t understand.” You agreed with the man, watching as he was heading up another flight of stairs. “Come on Walter, don’t make come up there and kick your ass.”

“Wait, look.” The man stopped you from doing anything. You could feel someone wrap a hand around your upper arm, stopping you from chasing after the man and leading yourself into some kind of danger. “You put your heart and soul into something, years of hard work—years. And then they take it, and they crap all over it! And then they want you to smile and say thank you.”

“Walter, listen.” Sam tried to reason with the man. “It’s just a movie. That’s it.”

You could hear a sigh coming from Walter, acting as if none of you were getting what he was trying to explain. “Look. I got nothing against you, man. You’re not part of this. Just please—please, just leave.” He pleaded, focusing his attention on the other man standing at Dean’s side. His voice hardened with hateful vengeance that needed to be done. “But Martin’s got to stay.”

“Sorry, can’t do that.” Dean called out, ruining the man’s plans before they could happen. “It’s not that we like him or anything. It’s a matter or principle.”

“Then I’m sorry, too.” Walter said, settling on another mode of action.

Sam tried pleading with the man, but the words died at the tip of his tongue when Walter brought up the strange looking object in the air. You knew it wasn’t something good when he started chanting Latin, familiar words that you remembered from the many tapes you’d watched. It took a moment or so before anything began happening. The ground below you began to shake; at first it was a low rumble, slowly building to a more rapid tone with added touches of wind beginning to gust around the building. You started examining the entire place to see what was going on, but what you saw just standing right across from the movie set.

It seemed the trio of spirits were playing quite nice with each other. You examined the mangled and destroyed bodies of the souls that died here. They weren’t here by choice, but Walter had summoned them all. Sure, you’ve dealt with pissed off spirits that wanted to kill people for whatever reason it could be. But three in a row? You had to admit, you were shaking a bit in your boots, wondering what the outcome was going to be.

You and Sam slowly edge yourselves closer to Dean when the man was getting ready to shoot, knowing the spirits were edging closer and closer. The man was waiting for the perfect moment to blow them away, his finger was on the trigger as all of you continued waiting for something to happen. But after a few seconds, suddenly everything stopped. In a blink of an eye—they were gone from sight, leaving all of you to wait what was going to happen next.

You turned your head for a moment to see if they were going to try a sneak attack, but you caught sight of something else. An invisible force seemed to have grabbed ahold of Sam, throwing him forward and up in the air, all before he landed not too far in the ground. You called out the man’s name with worried concern, losing your focus for a moment about the threat lingering around. The two other men followed behind, knowing there wasn’t a chance all of you were going to stick around and see what happened next. You helped the taller man up from the ground and began running, trying to get away from the danger that followed behind.

All of you barely managed to sneak backstage when something else happened; all the lights from the spotlights and the makeup counters began shattering, making you dodge fragments of glass and sparks that erupted from the sudden attack. Sam managed to lead all of you away from any danger for a moment when you stumbled into the cabin. You heard the door slam shut, allowing you to catch your breath for a moment. You ran your fingers through your hair and sighed, before you turned your head and glared at the older man, who seemed it was an appropriate time to start imitating a Bruce Willis voice from whatever movie it was.

“Come out to the coast. We’ll get together, have a few laughs.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath with obvious aggravation. He pulled the top of the shotgun down, getting ready to put in more ammunition. As he glanced over his shoulder, the attention in the room shifted toward the one problem neither one of you were expecting. The other half of the room was missing, leaving a perfect opening for whatever that decided to come walking through. “Oh, man!”

“I can’t frickin’ believe this.” You heard Marty say. “Ghosts are real.”

“What makes you say that?” You asked, sarcasm dripping in your words.

You pressed your backside against the wall, knowing there was a chance something was going to pop out at any given moment. You heard the gunshot click back into place after Dean loaded up the gun again. Now, it was just the waiting game until something happened. “But I don’t understand. How is Walter controlling them?” Marty asked a decent question, obviously seeming curious enough to know the answer.

“Probably that talisman.” Sam guessed, seeming to remember the object the man was holding. All of you fell silent for a moment before you heard clothes ruffling. You turned your head to see Sam had whipped out his phone from his pocket, he scrolled through until he pulled up the camera.

“What are you doing?” Marty asked.

“If film cameras pick these suckers up, then maybe…” Sam mumbled, beginning to slowly scan the room for any sort of familiar creature. He made it halfway through the room until he caught one of them. “Dean, right there!”

Without another warning, his brother brought up the shotgun and pulled the trigger, making the spirit vanish before any harm could come. As Sam continued glancing around the room, another one caught his attention. He pointed and his brother shot again, making it vanish. You turned your head upwards when you heard metal clanking from above. There was Walter, running across the stage. Before you thought about it, you were quick on your heels, turning around and throwing open the door, knowing you weren’t going to let him slip through your fingers so easily.

“Here. Get the idea?” Sam asked Marty, shoving him the phone. The man nodded his head and began to scan the room for more spirits. “All right, you hold them off. I’m going with Y/N. She’s after Walter.”

You managed to trace where the man could have headed, giving you enough time to take the lead in getting him cornered. He thought that he could make an escape through the back entrance, having no clue you or Sam were there. The metal door opened and a few seconds later, you saw the man stumbling out, looking over his shoulder to see if someone was following him. But he didn’t seem to count on seeing the both of you standing there, waiting for him.

“It’s over, Walter.” You said to the man, reaching out a hand to take the talisman from him. “Now give it to me.”

But it seemed Walter had another change in heart; you watched in surprise as he threw it to the concrete, letting the object smash into tiny little pieces. You stared at the man, who seemed to have been confident that it was the right thing to do.“ There.” He said. “Okay, now no one can have it.”

“I wouldn’t have done that if I were you.” Sam warned the man.

“Yeah?” Walter questioned. “Why not?”

“Because you just freed them, idiot.” You answered, taking a few steps back from the danger that was soon to follow. You turned your head for a moment when you heard the metal door swing open, revealing Marty and Dean. But it was too late. “We can’t stop them now. You brought them back, forced them to murder. They’re not going to be very happy with you.”

It seemed that Walter was feeling a bit confident, he kept questioning your authority, acting like he still had leverage over all of you. “Yeah? So, why not?”

But the words died with regret when you watched his body drop to the ground, screams of pain escaping his throat at what happened next. All though none of you could see it with the naked eye, revenge was being taken place. Walter was being ripped to pieces as his white button up shirt slowly began to be soaked with blood. Marty couldn’t help himself but lift up the camera out of a strange curiosity—all he could see was his fellow coworker being mauled to death for a moment, before he dropped his arm down to his side in horror, knowing that he had seen enough for a lifetime.

\+ + +

It seemed that you made your mark in Hollywood after all; you watched as the previous days work of hunting down ghosts had made it to the big screen. Marty had stolen the idea of seeing spirits with a camera phone and kept the suggestion of shooting them with rock salt. You watched as two actors played out the scene rather well, wrapping up with the director’s praise as he jumped up from his seat to congratulate them. You had to admit, if the acting and writing kept improving like this, this movie might be actually pretty good.

“You find out there’s an afterlife,” Sam was standing next to you, his arms were crossed over his chest, seeming to find the changes in the movie nothing but tacky. “And this is what you do with it?”

“I needed a little jazz on the page.” Marty said, defending himself. Sam shrugged his shoulders, seeming to expecting nothing short of that kind of answer. You watched as he turned around, heading off to find his brother. As you were about to follow behind, you stopped in your tracks and focused on the writer, wondering what he wanted from you. “Hey, sweetheart—You ever think about show business? A gorgeous face like yours deserves to be on the silver screen. I can see someone like you in my next movie. A badass woman who hunts ghosts, someone who’s not afraid of anything that stands in her way.”

"Hmm. Thanks…but no thanks.” You said, giving the man a smile. “Feel free to keep the idea. Just make sure you stay away from ruining everyone else’s. Because I really don’t want to be back to save your ass.”

Marty only managed to force out a chuckle from your comment before he turned his attention back toward the film he was making. You couldn’t help yourself but allow a small grin spread across your lips, suddenly feeling flattered from the idea of having a fictional character written out of you. As you followed behind to see where the brothers ended up, you made it to the trailers to find Sam who looked almost shocked from what sight he stumbled upon.

You furrowed your eyebrows and took a few steps until you discovered what was going on. Dean was throwing back on his jacket as Tara was standing in her doorway dressed in nothing more than a robe. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots. The matching happiness that was given off by both made you turn away, not to ruin this little moment. You glanced over at Sam, giving him a playful wink, knowing you just earned yourself a few extra hundred bucks in your pocket. The three of you walked away, knowing the time here in sunny California had come to an end.

“God, I love this town.” You heard Dean mumbled underneath his breath, seeming to be nothing but on cloud nine. You could feel his arm wrap around your shoulder, pulling you in closer to share this high of happiness moment he was feeling. You let out a laugh, shaking your head and focusing your attention on the Impala parked not far from the set. One hunt down, another one to go.


	19. Folsom Prison Blues.

Home sweet home. You couldn’t believe after spending a year and a half away from your old hometown, you could still feel the same sense of relief when you shoved the key into the lock, hearing it bounce back into place. Echoes of children laughing and their parents chatting filled your ears as you glanced over your shoulder, watching as the yellow taxi pulled slowly out from your driveway until it soon disappeared from sight. You pushed open the front door, suddenly overwhelmed with happiness that you let the brothers talk you into taking a small vacation away from hunting. Things had been slow; no sign of the demon, you don’t remember the last time Sam had a vision and cases were pretty slow. This was a perfect time to answer life after someone from your past came up.

An old friend from your playground days, someone you had almost long forgotten about, tracked your cell phone number. She still sounded the same—a small, timid voice with a bursting personality that shined through the other end of the phone. She begged for a reunion, saying she was gathering all her old friends. During the conversation between the both of you, it seemed that you were reeled into the trip of returning back home after you heard a familiar voice on the other end and a baby’s squeal of cries. You knew Josh and her had known one another from their college days. But you didn’t seem to figure out that she had given birth to a baby boy named Jackson. And gotten married, too. 

“Come on, Y/N.” You could hear Josh in the background, the tone of his voice was nothing short of joy as he continued playing with the baby. “You can stop traveling for a few days. The world won’t fall apart without you, I promise.”

You knew he was talking about hunting, but the secret was kept between the both of you. It didn’t take much convincing to drop everything for a few days and enjoy the company from your past. Everything had been quiet since wrapping up that hunt in Hollywoo. And the brothers were hinting about wanting to take a small vacation from this lifestyle. It didn’t take much convincing, you were packing just an hour after the conversation when the boys seemed okay with the idea.

Shoving the front door closed with your foot, you immediately felt a shiver run through your body when you remembered everything had been shut off for the past week. Since temperatures had been slowly rising back to normal ones, you called Josh up and asked him to make sure that things were running properly. You had water, which meant the pipes didn’t freeze and the heating system seemed to have been working well after you cranked it up to a toasty temp to thaw out the aching bones from the long trip.

You dragged your body upstairs, knowing everyone was going to be meeting tonight for a dinner at some new fancy Italian restaurant, Melissa’s treat. That gave you exactly seven hours to sleep. As you wandered down the hall with your bags trailing on the carpet, you could feel a toothy grin spreading across your lips when you saw the one thing that had been on your mind since the flight back. Your wonderful, soft mattress. Without even thinking about unpacking, you dropped the bags to the floor and jumped onto the bed, a childlike squeal escaping your lips when your body sank deeper into the bed.

All the windows and doors were locked, you had made sure to leave the brothers a voicemail in the taxi to say you arrived safely. For seven days and nights, you could be normal again. You loved the hunting lifestyle, you loved saving lives. But you needed a small break. A sigh of happiness escaped your lips before you pulled yourself up to the pillows to lay your head down. You didn’t even needed to think about the thought twice before your eyes closed, curling up to your comforter that smelled faintly of dust and fabric softener. A minute later, you were out.

\+ + +

Hours pass. You don’t remember dreaming of anything when you stirred awake from your deep slumber. When you open your eyes after a moment of lying there, darkness is the first thing greets you before you quickly reach to turn on the bedside lamp on your wooden table. It must be from taking a nap that is making you feel on edge, but a sense of relief escaped your lips when light floods through your bedroom, making you realize that you’re safe. You don’t want to look at the clock, but do after a moment. You cringe when you read the time: 1:27 A.M.

You slept all day? You remember waking up around three in the afternoon, mumbling something to yourself about having enough time to doze a little longer, but not this long. A groan of annoyance escapes your lips when you push yourself up from the bed, knowing the dinner you were supposed to attend was well over by now. Melissa probably thinks you bailed on her. You let out a frustrated sigh and head downstairs, knowing that you can’t sleep again and the phone is still packed in one of the bags that must be sitting on the hallway floors. You passed through the kitchen out of habit, knowing your home phone was still hooked up. Like you were expecting, you saw a neon red number of two blinking on the answering machine. You pressed the play button.

“You have one new message, sent today at—6:45 P.M.” You listened to the robotic female voice as you began to turn your attention to today’s newspaper you’d picked up at the store during your ride back from the airport. A few seconds later, you heard a familiar voice echo through the room, bringing your attention to Melissa’s message. “Hiya, Y/N! Sorry I’m calling so late. Today’s luck seems to have lost me. Poor Jackson is running a fever and our babysitter bailed on us the very last second. Tonight’s dinner is cancelled, if you couldn’t tell. But I hope you can swing by the house tomorrow for some lunch, just us girls. We have so much catching up to do! End of message.”

You reached out a hand, grabbing the plastic bag and tearing it open, your mouth watering with delight when you catch sight of a lukewarm box of your favorite frozen food. You didn’t care if it was almost thawed out, you were starving. As you headed to the microwave and placed the meal inside, you were pressing the buttons to start the time when the next message came on as you half listened.

“ Message two, sent today at—12:14 A.M. Hello, Y/N? My name is Deacon Jones, I’m the head prison warden at Green River County Detention Center. I’m sorry to be calling so late, but this is on the behalf of Sam and Dean Winchester. This matter is urgent. If you could give me a call back whenever you can, I would greatly appreciate it.”

You turned around in your spot, pressing your backside against the counter. You wondered why someone from a prison. It took you a few moments before the connection set in your mind, realizing they were still in Arkansas, doing exactly what you had warned them not to do. “Son of a bitch. I can’t leave those two idiots alone for more than one day.” You hissed underneath your breath, snatching the phone off the cord and furiously dialing the number.

\+ + +

Your little vacation ended quicker than it could even begin. You called back the warden quicker than he expected, and you barely gave him a chance to answer any of the questions you kept firing at him. The man managed to say between your rants and questions that he was one of John’s old Marine buddies, knew the brothers since they were kids. He wasn’t the enemy, he was just trying to help them. It turns out there was a pretty nasty spirit haunting his prison, killing off inmates one by one. The Winchester boys took the case without hesitation, setting up their own scheme of getting into jail by setting up some bogus robbery so they would be placed in the exact same prison that was being haunted.

"Oh, I’m gonna kill ‘em.” You mumbled underneath your breath, pressing your hand against your forehead when you suddenly felt a headache coming from the stress beginning to crumble on top of one another. “Does the oldest realize he has murder charges? And God knows whatever else they managed to scrape up doing their times of hunting. Can you put Dean on the phone? I wanna tell the man how wonderful death row is going to be!” 

“Relax, relax. They’re still being interrogated. I pulled a few strings, got the best lawyer in the state working with them right now.“ Deacon said, knowing he was only trying to comfort you. But you were shaking your head, wondering what would happen if they didn’t escape or execute this plan right. You knew almost all sort of police force was watching them like hawks, waiting for the right move until they screwed up. They must be having a field day. "And they’ll be in my vision their entire time here. I’ll take good care of them, I promise.”

“Look, Deacon, I bet you’re pretty freakin’ amazing at your job, don’t get me wrong. But you don’t know Dean like I do. He gets himself way into deep with these kind of cases. Now, I’m not too worried about Sammy, he’s smart. And he’s got a bit of law behind him. But I just want to make sure they’re okay. Can you somehow give me a chance to visit them when they get booked?”

There’s a small pause, you can hear him letting out a sigh when he tries to think of something. He can hear the worry and desperation in your voice. This was going against everything the brothers had told him, not to drag you into this mess, but it seemed you were going to be here weather they wanted it or not. "I might have a way to get you closer to the action. How are you with violent criminals?” You blink a few times, thrown off by his question. “Can you handle yourself if someone is coming after you that’s twice your size?”

“Sir, I’ve help hunt all sorts of monsters that tried to kill me from demons to spirits. I won’t cry if an inmate pushes me down and I scrape my knees. If that’s what’s you’re asking. ” You said, your voice becoming level when you realized what he was hinting around at. “Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t mean I can’t do the job.”

"I know they can. But don’t get your hopes up just yet, kid. It’s a thought in progress. We can discuss it with the boys when they arrive in a day or so. I’ll see what I can find for you to do. I guess having another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt.” Deacon mumbled. “How quick can you get out here?”

“I’ll take the earliest flight I can find.” You quickly said, trying to prove how serious you were to the man about this. “Drive all freakin’ night if I have to. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

“All right. Here’s what I want you to do in the meantime.”

\+ + +

It took just another flight out to Arkansas the next morning for you to arrive shortly in a new state, but you had little time to enjoy the scenery. You picked out a decent looking hotel that wasn’t far from the prison, making sure to use your own credit card, keeping a paper trail to continue with the story you were going to use. Since most of the heat was being followed by the brothers, you had been crossing your fingers and praying that this story you and Deacon agreed on was going to work. Even though the brothers were locked inside, there was no way of communicating and getting information through research. That’s where you came in.

You opened up your laptop and placed it on the bed as it booted up, waiting a moment or so before the familiar screen popped into your vision. As you opened a new internet tab, your attention was drawn away for a moment when you heard the sound of muffled rings coming from somewhere in the room. It took a second before your hand dipped underneath the pillows, snatching your cell phone and checked to see who was calling. A sigh escaped your lips, reading the name of Josh Carver lighting up the screen. You were so caught up on getting here, you had forgotten to tell everyone you had left in the first place.

Hitting the send button, you pressed your phone to your ear and tried to speak in the most cheeriest voice you could muster. “Hey, Josh! I was just about to call.”

“No you weren’t.” Josh could tell you were lying, just from the sound of your voice. It was more tense, frustrated than you realized. You rolled your eyes, cradling the phone between your shoulder and head as you reached to start typing in the police department the brothers were currently being placed. “Y/N, what’s going on? I thought you were going to quit hunting for a while.”

“It’s complicated, Josh.” You mumbled, focusing your attention on getting access to the police database. Remembering the technique, you were granted access without a trace of someone finding you. You went to the search bar and typed in Dean’s name first, waiting a moment before the recently new information popped up on the screen. As your eyes skimmed the charges, you could feel a heavy sigh escape your lips. You didn’t want to look up Sam’s, but as Josh was rambling on about something on the other end, you pulled up another window and typed in the name before you read everything. “You gotta be freaking kidding me.”

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

“You want the truth?”

“The whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you focused your attention on the mugshots of Sam and Dean Winchester. You let it all spill, never leaving out a small detail from him. When everything was out in the open, you focused your attention on the mugshots. You couldn’t help but let out a nervous giggle, staring at Dean’s with a bit more focus, knowing is terrible humor was shining through from the impression he was trying to make.

“They’re in jail, Josh. Crimes that go from identity theft to first degree murder.” You said, repeated the news again, as if you were trying to make yourself come to realization about it. "I don’t get it. They’re risking the chance of seeing an actual day in court just to hunt some stupid ghost. Josh, why did I allow myself into this mess, again?”

“Because you’re a great friend.” He said. You let out a few sniffles from the stress of everything that was going on, you leaned your backside against the pillows and pushed away the laptop with your foot. “You’re saving lives, Y/N. So are they. You’re their one chance at making sure this plan goes well. And I mean, how cool is it to be the getaway driver when all of this is done?“

Knocking on your hotel door caused your attention to be focused back on reality. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a small laugh, knowing the man was too focused on the fictional depiction of breaking someone out of jail. You made a mental note of figuring out where the Impala was being stored, knowing Dean was going to be itching to have it when the time comes to leave. You opened up the door, wondering if it was the room service you’d ordered a little while ago. But this was someone you weren’t expecting to see.

"Um, Josh. I gotta call you back.” You managed to mumble out. You nervously pressed your thumb down on the button of your phone, letting the other end drop dead silent. Eyeing the two FBI badges that were directly in your view, you looked at the two men dressed in suits. You knew why they were here. Deacon was right, they do catch on fast. "I’m guessing you’re not room service with my breakfast, by chance? I’m starving.”

"Like two peas in a pod. It’s kind of adorable. They sure have the same sense of humor, don’t they?” You furrowed your eyebrows from the comment coming from the taller one, wondering what they were talking about. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m special agent Victor Henriksen. This is my partner, special Agent Reidy.”

“Nice to meet you gentlemen. But can I help you with something?” You questioned, leaning yourself against the door so you were peeking out. “I have important things to take care of.”

“This might be the reason why you’re here. May we come in?” Henriksen asked, seeming nothing short of polite. You were a bit hesitant to follow through with this plan, but you remembered what you needed to do. Just stay calm and deny everything that you can. You stepped out of the way, allowing the agents to walk into your room before you closed the door behind you. “You’re a very hard person to track down, Ms. Y/L/N. But I have to admit, you’re prettier in person.“

You opened your mouth to make a comment, but you could feel it shutting when you watched as he reached to take out a glossy photograph from the folder he was previously carrying around next to his side. A perfect eight by ten shot of you battered and beaten, from a previous hunt with a rogue cop that murdered anyone who had gotten in his way to keep the past hidden. It was one of those moments where you were at the wrong place, wrong time. The detective tried pinning everything on Dean, even your assault, but all of you were long gone when his partner shot him.

"Can you tell me what the hell is going on here?” You questioned the men.

“Didn’t you hear the news? Your little friends were busted last night, tripped on a motion detector while trying to rob a local museum.” Henricksen was quite the talker, seeming so proud of the rooky mistake the brothers planned. You could see the arrogance dripping out from his actions and words. “Of course, there’s something that is making my partner and I scratch our heads. Where were you in all of this? The three musketeers haven’t been broken up for years.”

“I needed some time away from traveling on the road. I’ve been at my house for the past few months, keeping in contact with my friends. Haven’t talked to the brothers for a while.” You said, going along with the lie that slipped right off your tongue. “Well, until, yesterday. I heard about what happened to them. It’s a shame how sloppy the FBI can be nowadays.” 

"Aw, she’s coming to their rescue. Like the good girl she is.” Henricksen almost mocked your tone, looking at his partner with a smirk. Your eyes dropped to the folder again, where he pulled out another picture, letting it drop to the bed he was currently standing next you. A sense of panic washed over you when you saw a screenshot of Dean from the bank robbery. “Nice shot, isn’t it? He can hang that in his cell at supermax. Still want to believe he’s a good guy?”

“What the hell is this from—”

“Oh, yeah. Keep that game face on. Try and cover up how cornered you are, Y/N.” Henriksen was seeing straight through the act you were trying to pull. You nervously shifted around in your spot. “I know you haven’t been playing House. But enough about you. Let’s focus on the brothers, shall we? Reidy, tell her the charges for our favorite criminal Dean Winchester.”

You focused your attention on the man that had been staying quiet for the most part, standing with his hands on his hips. It almost seemed like this was a great pleasure from what he was about to do. "He’s got mail fraud, credit-card fraud, grave desecration.” He started listing off a few, but his partner jumped in for a moment.

“Skip to the good ones.”

“Armed robbery, kidnapping, and, uh, oh,” Reidy stopped for a moment, knowing he was leaving the best for last. “One count of first-degree assault and three counts of first-degree murder.“

"And after Milwaukee, Sammy is now a suspect in a murder case himself.” Henricksen jumped into the conversation again, making you clench your jaw in frustration. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Y/N. I know you were there with them. And I know you were responsible of impersonating an FBI agent before you escaped. You’re pretty damn good for someone growing up in such a sheltered life. But your mother taught you well. Being a manipulative liar and being pretty can let women go far in life.“

"Are you clowns here to arrest me, then? Or should we continue this conversation in an interrogation room—with my lawyer?” You questioned the men, crossing your arms over your chest. “If all you’re here is to brag about the accomplishments of tracking down two men that took you over two years to find. I’ve had enough of this harassment.”

You reached down and snatched the photos from the bed, knowing they were nothing less than some cheap scare tactic to see if you would add any more information to their investigation. Roughly slamming them into Henriksen’s chest, you made eye contact with him. “Whatever they’ve done in the past, I don’t know a single thing about it. Look into my bank statements and my bills. I think that’s enough of an alibi until you and little sidekick figure something else out. You know, it might only take another year to connect the dots. Now if you two are done wasting my time, I have more important things to worry about.”

“You can save yourself a hell of a lot of time if you cooperate with us.” Henricksen was grasping at straws, you knew he was at the end of his rope to wrap this case up together. A nice big, juicy confession from you was the last thing he wanted to put all of the time spent running around like a madman to hunt everyone down. But you weren’t flinching at his passive threats. “You’ll go out Scott free. Find someone to settle down with in that big, expensive house of yours. Do everything your mother raised you to be. Don’t you want to make her proud?“

“Have a good day gentlemen.” You said, letting a toothy grin spread across your lips. For this moment, you were still in the shadows. You were going to keep blowing out their flame as long as you could before slipping away in a few days. “Don’t let the door hit your asses on the way out.”

\+ + +

You weren’t going to let the passive threats brought on from some FBI agents stop you from doing exactly what you were here for. After you slammed the door in their faces, you made sure to delete the information off your computer from the police department you logged into. Whatever traces you could keep from getting yourself into trouble, you made sure to keep it that way. You managed to spend the rest of your morning a bit more protective before the next step in the plan were to take place. After scarfing down breakfast, you took a taxi to a local rental dealership to find a decent car for the next few days.

It was one of those moments where you realized how much you missed the brothers. How controlling Dean was about not letting anyone drive his precious Baby, which was probably locked away in some graveyard for cars. And Sam’s knowledge to pick up things so easily, knowing exactly what to look for. You were on your own for two days, and for some reason, they were going to feel like an eternity. There was nobody here to help cover your tracks and make sure that everything was going to be all right. You wanted this for so long, but with the circumstances looming over your head, nervousness was getting the best of you.

You pulled up to the detention center just around the afternoon, parking in the exact same place where the brothers would make their great escape. You got out of the car and slammed the door behind you, cautiously examining the place to see if you were being followed by those agents. When the coast seemed to have been clear, you headed up to the metal door and knocked three times like Deacon had told you to do. You waited another moment or so until you watched as the door squeaked open, revealing a man to be a little older than John would be now.

“Y/N?” The officer asked, making you drop the suspicion of being caught. You didn’t know what the man looked like, but from him knowing your name, this had to be the exact stranger you spoke on the phone with. He voice sounded the same, too. You nodded your head. He pushed open the door wider, motioning for you to slip inside. “I’m Deacon, like I said over the phone.”

"Glad we got introductions out of the way.” You mumbled, keeping your voice low so nobody could hear the both of you. Glancing around the empty room, your eyebrows furrowed from the lack of familiar faces the man promised to let you see when arriving. “Where are the boys?”

“Getting settled in their cells. I couldn’t pull them away from the booking process. It might cause a bit of suspicion, you know.” Deacon tried to explain, you nodded your head in agreement. You could see him narrowing his eyes at you, as if he was expecting to see someone different. The both of you stared at one another for a moment. “From what the brothers described of you, I was expecting someone…”

“What?” You ask, wondering what he’s trying to hint around.

"Taller, I guess.” He admits. You could see his apprehensive about letting you into this plan, knowing the amount of danger that could follow behind if the both of you weren’t careful. “Are you sure you wanna be apart of this, kid? You’d be surrounded by criminals that could snap at any given moment. Fights don’t break out here very often, I run a tight ship. But when they do, it can get pretty nasty. Sometimes these inmates can’t tell the difference between orange jumpsuits and the ones trying to protect them.”

"You see all kinds of monsters walk through these halls, I see mine. But I’m pretty damn sure you’re desperate to get your prison back in order. There’s a spirit haunting this place, killed four already. Let me help and I’ll make sure nobody else gets hurt. In two days you can go on running this place like nothing happened.” You said, trying to stand your ground. “Look, just because I’m a woman—”

“This has nothing to do with being a woman. I think they make phenomenal correctional officers, I’ve got one working here. She’s a tiny little thing, but damn, she could take down any of my men in a blink of an eye. Unfortunately she’s on off on maternity leave until the end of the month. I’m not saying you can’t do the job, it’s just the boys—” Deacon tried to explain what the brothers wanted, but stopped mid sentence when he could see the disappointment coming in your facial expressions. "But what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em. Hang on a second.”

You were nothing short of confused as you watched the man disappear from sight, heading out a set of double doors, leaving you hanging for what he was thinking. A moment later, he reappeared in sight, with a handful of clothes from tones that you were guessing was a uniform. Pulling out something from his pocket, you saw it was a laminated badge that would grant you access to certain places. You stared back at the man, knowing what he had been dancing around during your previous conversation had come true.

“Get dressed and stash your street clothes in your car. You keep your head down, don’t speak or approach any of the inmates that isn’t a Winchester. Act like you belong here, show the inmates dominance. If one of them even looks at you funny, tell me. Do you understand?” Deacon asked, you nodded your head. “All right. Also, wipe that makeup off your face and put your hair in some kind of updo. The more plain you look, the better you’ll blend in.”

\+ + +

It had been exactly two hours since arriving in prison; Sam and Dean Winchester were officially booked and ready to be trialed. The brothers had settled into their temporary cells with less than pleasant bunkmates. But they knew it was the least of their worries from what they had to accomplish in the small amount of time frame they had. Both of them were released from their cells after getting settled in, meeting back in line to discuss what was happening. Sam focused on the line ahead, watching as inmates were being searched by guards before heading inside the cafeteria for lunch. His attention was ripped away when his brother spoke.

“My roommate doesn’t say much. How’s yours?” Dean asked, curious to see what criminal the man was forced to sleep under for the next forty-eight hour time period.

“He just keeps staring at me,” Sam admitted, taking a step forward after another prisoner was allowed to go free. “In a way that makes me really uneasy.”

“Sounds like you’re making friends.” The oldest brother said, cracking a small smirk from his joke. But from the sudden bell that rang through the room made everyone flinch, standing up even straighter in fear there would be some sort of inspection.

Sam glanced around to see if the coast was clear before he leaned over the slightest, his voice dropping even lower as he continued talking. “Dean. This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we’ve ever done, and that’s in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy.”

"Calm down.” Dean said, trying to ease his little brother’s mind. “It’s all part of the plan.”

“Oh, really?” Sam questioned. “So Henriksen showing up was part of the plan?”

"Yeah, that guy moves a little faster than I thought.” Dean mumbled, knowing the agent had left a permanent impression on both of them. Sam gave his brother a look. “Look, all we got to do is find the ghost, put the sucker down and then grab ourselves a couple of those teardrop tattoos. It sure would surprise the hell out of Y/N when she sees us again.”

“That’s not funny.” Sam said, knowing his brother’s humor could be off at times. But another thought crossed his mind, something that had been bugging him since arriving here. “Speaking of Y/N, maybe she was right about jumping onto this hunt. We shouldn’t be doing this behind her back And do you think it’s really safe for her to be out there by herself? And what about this escape plan? Do—”

“Relax, Sparky. Y/N’s a big girl. She can take care of herself for a week. And besides, she doesn’t need to be included on every hunt.” Dean said. “And this escape is a hundred percent sure thing. I wouldn’t have gone in if it wasn’t. I mean, come on, man. This place has all signs of a haunting. Innocent people are dead—four so far.”

“Yeah, ‘innocent.’” Sam scoffed out.

"What, are you from Texas all of sudden?” Dean asked his brother. “Just 'cause these people are in jail doesn’t mean they deserve to die. And if we don’t stop this thing, people are gonna continue to die. We do the job wherever it takes us. Y/N will understand.”

“Look, Dean, just be straight with me, all right? You’re doing this for Deacon?” Sam asked his brother, wanting to know the truth behind this bold decision. Dean nodded his head, but it didn’t leave a good feeling in the pit of his stomach. “We barely even know the guy.”

“We know he was the in the corps with Dad. We know he saved Dad’s life.” Dean said, listing off the obvious facts that had drawn him here in the first place. “We know we owe him.”

“You alright,” Sam mumbled, taking his brother’s point. “But don’t you think he’s asking a little too much?”

“Doesn’t matter. We may not be saints, but we’re loyal and we pay our debts. Now, that means something to me, and it ought to you.” Dean said, looking over his shoulder the slightest. “I’m not thrilled out this either, man, but Deacon asked us to hunt this thing down. That’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”

\+ + +

Whatever food this prison was trying to feed their inmates, it sure didn’t look fit for human life. Sam awkwardly lifted up a forkful of spaghetti, daring to lean down and take a few sniffs of the food. He sure wasn’t going to be complaining about any of the usual food they ate when they got back on the road. Sam lifted his eyes away for a moment from the food to stare at a guard for a moment, wondering if they were watching them, but the person turned away before he could recognize the face. Brushing it off as nothing, he glanced over at his brother to see how he was doing. Of course, the man who could eat almost anything, was chowing down like it was his last meal.

"You know, this chicken isn’t half bad.” Dean said, seeming to enjoy the poultry that tasted awfully familiar to rubber to Sam after he took a small nibble. Of course from how they grew up, the man would eat almost anything if he was hungry.

“Great. Finish mine.” Sam mumbled, shoving the tray away. His brother reached out and plucked at the meat, putting it back on his own plate. “Alright, so, let’s go back over this, Dean. Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?”

“Yeah, psycho killer extraordinaire—” Dean started to explain, glancing over his shoulder to see if there was anyone paying close attention to their conversation. “Satanism, ritual murder. Died in jail.”

“You sure it’s him?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Dean, considering our circumstances, and with Y/N not around to help,” Sam said, knowing the amount of confidence his brother wasn’t exactly helpful. “I’m gonna need a little bit better than 'pretty sure.’”

“Really pretty sure.” Dean said, the younger brother gave him a look. “Moody died of a heart attack, which is exactly what all of the victims in here are dying of. Okay, he died in the old cellblock, which they opened right after he croaked, about thirty years ago. And they opened that back up. That’s when the killings started.”

“So you think his spirit was released somehow?” Sam asked, his brother nodded his head. “But what if he was already cremated?”

“I’m guessing there’s something in the old block that belongs to him that’s keeping him around. Whatever it is, we got to find it. And, uh, you know the rest.” Dean said, pushing away his tray, having enough with this meal. “I’m done.”

\+ + +

You felt nothing more than out of place, lurking around the small corner of the cafeteria where all sorts of criminals were being kept for lunch. Most of them were quiet, scarfing down food that made your stomach turn over into a queasy feeling from the food you ate earlier this morning. But your attention was focused on the pair of familiar men from across the room. You could feel a little bit more at ease knowing they weren’t in any sort of real trouble. Knowing them, they were probably planning out the hunt and finding a way to cut it early.

You didn’t seem to notice you were staring for a long period of time before Sam looked over his shoulder, almost making eye contact with you. Luckily you were quick to keep yourself from blowing your cover, turning your head down and started staring at a spot on the floor. After a moment you looked back, just in time to see them continue on talking. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, wondering if you could continue on with your part, knowing it would be a lot more safer with another shadow lingering on your heels. You were about to turn the other way to find Deacon, but before you could take another step, your attention lingered on a confrontation.

Sam was following behind his brother after finishing their lunch, he must have been lost in thought because he roughly slammed against another inmate that was strolling on by. You couldn’t help yourself but keep out for caution, knowing these type of inmates liked to cause trouble, Deacon had warned you before allowing you to go off. Setting your eyes on the older man, you waited to see how the situation would be handled.

“I’m sorry. I didn't—”

“Watch where you’re going.” The inmate’s tone was cold and aggressive, giving Sam a clear warning. You watched as the younger man nodded his head, not bothering to question whether the man had threatened him or not. The less trouble that the brothers got into and attention put on them by guards, the easier it would be to get out of here. But Dean didn’t seem to realize that.

“Walk away, Dean.” You mumbled underneath your breath, glancing over at a few officers that were lingering around. They didn’t seem to fazed from what was going on, the conversation about some recent event appeared to be more appropriate to them.

“He said he was sorry.” Dean, with his big mouth, walked up to the other inmate like he wasn’t afraid. You let out a sigh, knowing very well this wasn’t going to end well for anyone. When confrontation arises in men, nobody ever got out with just a few words exchanged.

“You talkin’ to me?” The inmate questioned, waiting for a response. Everyone seemed to have focused on the two men now, waiting ever so patiently to see what was going to happen next. When Dean was still silent, the man asked him the same question, but in a louder tone. “Are you talkin’ to me?”

“Oh, great, another guy who’s seen 'Taxi Driver’ one too many times.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, all before focusing his attention on the man. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. Trust me. Let it go.” The inmate seemed to have brushed off the mess like nothing had happened, giving the brothers another glance over before walking away, over to a table where someone else was keeping close inspection. Dean turned to face his brother, a grin spreading across his lips. “See, that’s how you got to talk to these guys. Instant respect.”

Dean seemed to have been too high and mighty about himself, not seeing what was about to unfold in just a few moments flat. Your eyes were drawn away from the brothers for a moment when you found yourself focusing on the inmate again. It seemed he had a friend of his own, who was staring at the boys with too much attention. When he stepped up from the table, looking like he could crush anyone in his path with a simple punch, you knew this wasn’t good. And the small crowd that was forming around the four wasn’t helpful, either.

“Oh, great.” You mumbled underneath your breath, running a hand down your face when you watched as the first inmate decided to be bold and throw the first swing. This isn’t what you wanted to see take place. “Why do I bother?”

It seemed that Dean was quick on his feet when he discovered the punch coming forward at him. You watched as he blocked the move, bending out of the way before grabbing the man’s arm and pinning it backwards. He whispered something to the man, but you were too far away to catch it. Whatever it was, the inmate tried to get the upperhand, shoving Dean off of him and trying to punch him again. But Dean managed to block it again before shoving the man into a nearby metal post, slamming him face first into the bar.

You almost were beginning to think that things were about to calm down, but they were just getting in the middle of it all. The inmate smashed his foot against Dean’s, making him jump back in pain from what had been done. Both of them were at it again, trying to see what was about to happen next. You could see through the crowd of bodies that the inmate was about to try and lunge forward, but Dean pulled a move nobody had seen coming, kicking the man between the legs. You cringed at how that might have felt, watching as the man was hovering down. Dean pulled his final move, kneeing him straight in the face, making the inmate drop to the ground from multiple injuries. One thing was for sure, Dean was always ready for a fight. No matter who or what he was up against.

“That’s enough!” A male voice boomed through the room, making a clear path break through. Everyone was now spreading out when they saw the warden strolling on through. He glanced down at the inmate that was lying on his feet. “On your feet, Lucas.”

“Yes, sir, boss.” Lucas mumbled, wiping a bit of blood away before he was back up. Acting as if nothing just happened between him and the other man.

You turned your focus on Deacon, who had now everything under control, demanding the attention in the room shift toward him. He slowly reached out a hand to grab his nightstick, walking right over to Dean, acting as if the man was just another inmate. With the nightstick in hand, he placed the tip underneath Dean’s chin as some sort of warning, making the man look up. “What’s your name?” He asked, pretending not to know the man.

“Winchester.” Dean answered.

“Well, Winchester, not a good start.” Deacon said, shoving the nightstick away before it was coming around to pointing at you, making you feel like a deer in headlights. Your jaw was beginning to become uneasily tight when you could feel two familiar pairs of eyes drawn to you, knowing the gig was officially blown. “Why don’t you escort Winchester to solitary? It’ll give you both a lesson on your first day. You, too, Lucas.”

Your facial expressions were becoming nothing more than a cold, hardening glare when you looked at Deacon for what he was making you do, but he ignored it. He walked away from all of you, going back to whatever previous work he was doing. You focused your attention back on Dean, who was watching your every move. It wasn’t hard to tell the man was nothing short from pissed at seeing you inside these walls, knowing all of you had agreed on taking different plans of actions. He lied to you, so you weren’t going to feel guilty about doing the same to him.

Grabbing the man’s arm, you had a good enough grip on him that seemed almost believable enough that he was under your control. The both of you followed behind the other officer that was escorting Lucas. You’ve heard about the stories that come from solitary confinement, how some prisoners spend all day and night in there, with no windows or doors to the outside world. Sometimes it was just a punishment that lasted just over night to give the inmates a chance to think about what they’ve done. Others were in there for almost all of their remaining sentence.

The sound of the heavy, metal door brought your attention back to where all of you were. Lucas was thrown into a cell that was small, but large enough for someone to last the entire night with the essentials all the way to the small hole in the door to provide the prisoners meals. Dean was to be next, but you stopped the officer from putting the man in, knowing it was supposed to be your job. Luckily the man didn’t seem hesitant about handing you the keys to lock up the man before he was off. You knew there wasn’t a chance you were going to speak first, all you did was nod your head to the cell door, making Dean had inside.

“What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?” Dean knew the coast was clear from anyone, so he felt it was good enough to start speaking freely. You slammed the door behind him, making sure to lock the door right after him. Taking a step back, you could see his green eyes pop out from the hole, making you focus on them. “I thought you were supposed to be at home.”

“And I thought you were supposed to be looking for another case. Guess we can’t stick well with our promises.” You hissed, knowing this was your first conversation between the both of you since arriving here. “Your buddy Deacon called me in the middle of the night. He tells me some idiots decided to land themselves in jail and I have to drag myself down here, all in a frenzy.“

"Hey! Will you two—”

“Shut up, Grandpa!” You yelled at the man sitting in the next cell, suddenly not in the mood to be cut off from the conversation you were having with Dean. It was too important to discuss before someone comes back and discovers what you’re really doing. “Anyways, I get settled in my hotel, guess who I meet next? A lovely FBI agent named Henriksen who seems to be a real fan of your past work, Dean.”

"Yeah, he’s kind of a dick. Him and I exchanged a few words back in Milwaukee.” Dean muttered, seeming to know the man quite well. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering why you were being told this right now. "You want to know the reason why I wanted you back home for the week? So you wouldn’t get pulled into this mess, Y/N. Did he talk to you at all?”

“Oh, I couldn’t get him to shut up.” You mumbled, looking over your shoulder to see if the coast was clear when you heard the sound of faint footsteps lingering behind you. But when you saw that it was no one, you focused your attention back on Dean. “He’s dead set on the idea that someone else was with there with the both of you in Milwaukee. Seems someone might have recognized that person, but you know, I’ll check into it tonight.”

“Good. And when you’re done with that, book yourself another flight home.” Dean’s tone of voice was nothing short of authority, you let out a scoff from how he was acting. He didn’t seem to realize how the roles were reversed. “Look, Y/N, we’ve got less than forty-eight hours until, you know. Sammy and I got this one. Go back home, be normal for a change.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, reaching down a hand to touch the cold ground. “It’s too late for that.” You said. When you heard your name being called down the hall, you turned your head to see Deacon was standing there, knowing it was time for you to leave. But it wasn’t going to be your last visit, you needed to make sure that this hunt was wrapped up for good. Maybe a little time in solitary would do some good for Dean, after all. 

\+ + +

You wandered down the prison halls with Deacon taking front, leading the both of you to his office where you asked to speak freely about a topic you weren’t going to disclose yet. It was something that was beginning to pester at your mind from what had just happened not even fifteen minutes ago. As you stepped inside the room, the door was shut behind you a moment later. You let out a frustrated sigh, signaling your first sign of anger that was boiling up the surface. Yanking off the uniform hat, you tossed it roughly toward the desk, not caring where it landed, but it safely floated to his desk. You then proceeded to shake out your hair, allowing it to feel untamed for a brief moment. Looking your best wasn’t exactly on your mind right now. Deacon gave you a curious look, circling around to his desk where he took a seat, waiting to see when this conversation was going to get started.

The facial expressions that were painted on the older man’s face weren’t helping your temper. It was like he didn’t care about Dean, who would be forced to sit in a small little cell for the rest of the night and screwing up more of this hunt. And if that wasn’t enough, Deacon picked you out of the crowd, just blowing whatever cover the both of you agreed on. The more you thought about everything, the more it made your blood boil with anger. You sucked in a deep breath, suddenly feeling all your words lingering at the tip of your tongue, demanding to be spoken first.

“What the hell was that?” The question slipped out of your mouth before you could form a better one. Your tone of voice had rose, making it echo through the small room and set a warning inside your head that someone could be listening in on the conversation right now. Dropping down to a whisper, you leaned in forward, “How come you’re making Dean sit in solitary? He didn’t start the fight. And what’s with you throwing the attention on me? I thought we agreed on waiting, at least.”

“You wanted to speak to him, didn’t you? I saw the opportunity. There you go.” Deacon replied, leaning back in his seat. Your response was a cold glare, making him realize you weren’t happy about this. “Look, kid, I can’t show favoritism to John’s children, no matter how much Lucas deserved it. It’s rules. Anyone involved in a fight automatically end up in solitary. Sorry I can’t change the rules. But he’ll be back out first thing tomorrow morning, enough time to finish.”

“Whatever. From what Dean told me, they clearly have things under control. I guess they really don’t need me, after all.” You mumbled, untucking the work shirt before reaching for the buttons to take it off. Suddenly you felt sort of silly for losing your temper so easily. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Deacon replied, you can furrowed your eyebrows in confusion from what he said. “Those boys really do count on you. From what they told me over the phone, they really wanted you to be here. And I can see why. Someone like you—smart, strong willed, sure as hell doesn’t give up easily. John would be proud to know he’s got you looking out for his boys. Don’t sell yourself short, kid. Stick around for awhile and see what happens.”

You smiled a bit at him, nodding your head. "Yeah, I might just do that. I’ll pop in tomorrow right before they’re due to leave, just to make sure things are all taken care of. If that’s okay? Because knowing the work we get into, there’s bound to be something that comes up.”

\+ + +

You arrived back at your hotel shortly afterward, all of your mind kept thinking about was crashing for the rest of the afternoon. Your hand slipped inside your pocket, pulling out your room key as you headed down the quiet hallway. As you glanced up to your room, you found yourself stopping in your tracks when you saw an unfamiliar woman standing in the doorway. From her professional appearance, you could tell right off the bat it must have been another of those FBI goons. You let out a frustrated sigh and charged forward, knowing they weren’t going to stop until things were clear enough that you didn’t know anything. You watched as the woman turned around, a small smile spreading across her face as she put out a hand to greet herself. But you ignored her attempts at trying to be friendly, bolting down to the anger against her.

"Jesus, you agents won’t leave me alone, will you?” You bitterly ask the woman, crossing your arms over your chest. But it seemed you might have jumped to conclusions. It seemed you had shoved your foot in your mouth when the stranger’s face slowly sank into confusion, not wondering what you were talking about. “Oh. I–I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. It’s been a rough morning.”

“You must be Y/N, right?” The woman wondered, pointing her manicured finger at you. Nodding your head, she gave you another smile. “My name is Mara Daniels. I’m the attorney representing Sam and Dean Winchester. And you’re the exact person I have been hoping to meet.”

The both of you decided to settle in the hotel lounge area that was just across from the bar, where it buzzed with almost no action for it being almost late in the afternoon. You sat yourself down on a comfortable loveseat with Mara positioning herself just across from you. Putting your full attention toward her, she had briefly explained that there was small details in the case files she read over that weren’t making sense. But since she had seemed to been generally on board with making the brothers seem innocent, you decided to play along and see what questions she wanted to ask you. It’s not like the brothers would see a day in court, anyway.

Mara seemed to have been thinking, taking a moment or so of silence to figure out how to get this thought out property. You waited ever so patiently. “You’ve been traveling with the boys for quite a while, correct? But from what I can understand, you’ve been gone for a few days, visiting friends.” She asked, deciding to start off there. You nodded your head. She opened her mouth, but a small, almost nervous laugh escaped her. “I’m sorry. I can’t wrap my head around the details from the case files I’ve been reading. This is why I wanted to speak to you in private. Everything that I have been reading, what Henricksen keeps chirping in my ear. It paints them out to be—”

“Monsters?” You cut her off, knowing the details in those files were nothing but gritty details of torture and murder. Vandalized corpses from dozens of times the brothers have done for sales and burns. And not to mention the paper trail of identity theft from surviving on the road. “Trust me. They’ve helped more people than hurt. I’ve been on the road with them for months and I swear on my life, they didn’t kill anyone.”

“I I know, I know. I tried explaining that to Henricksen but he won’t hear any of it. Before coming here I spoke to a detective back in Baltimore, she swears up and down that you and the boys saved her life. And helped catch a killer.” said. You hadn’t forgotten about Ballard and her crooked cop of a lover, who was responsible for all the murders. “But here’s what I can’t wrap my head around. There’s a witness to the bank robbery in Milwaukee who swears Sam and Dean saved her life, too.”

“Saved her from what?” You asked, pretending not to know about it.

“She was a little unclear on that.” Mara explained. She narrowed her eyes at you, like she was expecting you to crack and spill all the details you were keeping from her. You shifted your gaze somewhere else, having a feeling she might have been faltering her opinion off. “Look, Y/N, I can understand you’re feeling defensive. But let me tell you this. The Winchesters don’t seem cut-and-dry guilty to me. I think there’s more to this. I was hoping you could help me.”

"All I can you is that those boys aren’t guilty. I know what from the documents and the papers you read, it seems like they’re textbook crazy. And I’ll be honest, they’re not saints. But none of us are.” You said, leaning in closer as you glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping on the two of you. “I know the men like the back of my hand. They don’t do these kind of things to hurt others or for the thrill of murder. Sounds crazy, but they just want to help people.”

"I believe you. Trust me, I really do. This is possibly one of the strangest cases I’ve taken on. And it only makes me want to fight for what’s right.” Mara admits, nodding her head in agreement. “But, Y/N, here’s some free advice if you don’t want to see me talking to you next time behind a plate glass window. Go back home. Henricksen is making it pretty clear he’s coming after you. He thinks you were apart of this mess, including the bank robbery. But there’s no evidence to make a formal arrest, luckily. But he still thinks you and the boys are up to something. All I can say is a jury doesn’t always fall for the sweet, innocent woman with a good sob story. Get what I’m saying?”

You nodded your head, understanding the possibility of putting yourself in more danger. It seemed that everyone was pointing a finger for the exit. But there was something that was urging you to stay, just until the morning. Maybe it was because you wanted to make sure the brothers got out safe. All though, you were itching to comb through the history of the prison to make sure whatever lead the brothers had going was the right one. It wouldn’t hurt to have a second opinion on the matters, you thought.

\+ + +

Research was something you could always suck yourself into; you could forget about the worries that were behind and focus on the questions that buzzed in your mind. You’ve pulled up all sorts of information that you could find on the building from the grounds it was built all the way to the workers and each prisoner that died there. You gone almost all night. But you must have passed out around dawn when you stirred awake from an awkward slumber in the late afternoon, covered in papers with notes of information you’ve previously had written down that might have come in handy and a laptop that was in sleep mode. You reached up a hand to swipe a finger across the mousepad, watching with hooded eyes as the screen came back to life.

It seemed that you must have last left off on the police department, wanting to check up on the latest activity out of curiosity. You let out a yawn and began clicking around until you stumbled on something that made you instantly wake up. From what you were reading, it seemed that two more prisoners have died in just the past twelve hours. When you pulled up the information they had just put into the system your heart almost skipped a beat when you realized how close to him it was hitting. Lucas, the man who’d started the fight with Dean and ended in solitary, had died in the middle of the night from a heart attack. And just a few short hours ago, his friend had died from the same natural causes after being admitted to the infirmary—all with Dean being in the exact same room after partaking in another fight, witnessing what had happened yet again.

This was getting stranger. You had made the connection all of these criminals were dying of a heart attack. There was one vicious killer that was doing life in prison, almost forty years back. But his timespan was cut short after a few police officers decided to brutally assault him. A heart attack from the trauma cut his lights out. You had read that the wing he was killed in was shut down for years. When it opened back up just a short time ago, that’s when the recent amount of heart attacks began. Sam and Dean might have been drawn to this idea, but there was something deeper, another death that was keeping your attention.

“Spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?” You mumbled out the question to yourself, as if one of the brothers were here to answer it for you. As you searched through the papers, you snatched one that you had found with some information about a nurse. “Sure, Mr. Moody, you’ve got the crap kicked out of you before you passed. But Nurse Glockner seen a bitter end, didn’t you?”

From what your notes and deeper amount of research had showed it, it seemed Nurse Glockner had started in the seventies. She was supposed to be a temporary nurse that worked in the infirmary. Right off the bat you could tell she wasn’t fit for her job from the performance reviews they’d had kept on file from records. The more you dug, the more secrets she had hidden around. But it wasn’t hard for you to connect the dots. It seemed like she was horrible at her job from the amount of deaths that had fallen during her time with patients. Grabbing another sheet of paper, you listed off all the prisoners that died from a heart attack. And it wasn’t hard to see a spike in the deaths during her time in the prison, and during her care.

You knew it wasn’t hard to mix the right amount of drugs to produce the perfect blend that can make it look like someone died of a heart attack. You had read a few cases with doctors or nurses using a certain chemical for their patients to mysteriously die of a heart attack. And you had a feeling Nurse Glockner was doing this from beyond the grave. Even after death, she was playing a vigilante, going after criminals she thought deserved to die. But the question that began to burn in the back of your mind was about the connection to the cell block. You knew there wasn’t any details about the reported cause of deaths in any documents or newspaper articles you could find. But if it was out there, you were going to find it.

Another amount of time slipped through your fingers as you endlessly worked, ordering more room service and munching down a few meals before you found the report of Nurse Glockner’s death buried deep in the town’s records. A smile crept on your lips when you read the information, knowing this was the spirit who was killing off criminals. She didn’t die of natural causes. She was murdered in the old cell block. You automatically reached out a hand to grab your phone, punching in the private number Deacon had given you before leaving the prison yesterday. It took a few rings before you heard him answer.

“It’s me, Y/N. I don’t know if the boys fixed the problem yet, but I found something that might help. Since we don’t have a lot of time left, I’m going to swing by.“ You said, glancing down at the clock on your laptop screen, not realizing how late it was. "Yeah, better make it few hours. I have a few errands to run before seeing them. Hopefully I’m wrong about this. But you can’t be too safe, right?”

\+ + +

You pulled up to the prison with more information about the case, beginning to wonder now if you were right about all of this. You made sure to do the exact same path you took before, sneaking round the back and knocking a few times on the metal door. A moment or so later, you watched as the door swung open, revealing Deacon himself again. He nodded his head for you to step inside, following him into the building where it was almost virtually empty. Most of the prisoners were out in the yard, making the rest of the guards to follow to make sure that the inmates played nice. It was a perfect chance to slip you inside without having to change out of your normal clothes, something you were grateful for.

The both of you walked into a large room where you had never been before. It was deeper into the prison, and from what you were inspecting around the place, it was the bathroom area. It was big, only one point of entry and there wasn’t a chance someone wasn’t going to step inside if there was another inmate in here with a guard or two, knowing the officers were setting their own punishment that they thought was justified. Sort of like what happened to the prisoner, Moody. But you weren’t set on the idea that it was him. The boys would have taken care of it by now since time was running out into a mere hour before the plan kicked into action.

Deacon instructed you to keep yourself hidden for a little while longer so he could find the right moment to lure away the brothers. You had been counting at least five minutes being kept with your patience slowly running thin, twisting itself into a fear that was filling your mind with doubts about this plan working. You were about to chew your fingernails down to the bone when the sounds of heavy footsteps echoed off the tiled walls, bringing your attention full force to different voices. You dropped your hand to your side and pressed your backside against the pillar that was keeping you hidden, knowing there was someone else with Deacon and the brothers.

“Take off. I want to handle this alone.” You could hear Deacon speaking first, instructing the fellow guard to leave the three of them in peace. Sounds of footsteps was the only thing you could hear through the thick silence before the slamming of the door was the cue to get the plan started. “You can come out now, Y/N.”

You peeked your head out from the hiding spot, a smile spread across your face when you saw the brothers in the flesh again. Both of them were still dressed in the hideous orange jumpsuits, paired with a navy blue jacket from the cold breeze coming from outside. Your eyes lingered down to the handcuffs on each of them, wondering had been caused to use it. But your attention lingered slowly up to the nasty bruises you saw placed on Dean’s upper cheek. You immediately reached up a hand to crank his head forward at you so you take a closer inspection of the wound.

“Well, looks like you’re making friends I here. All you need is a few tattoos and you would fit in here perfectly, Dean.” You mumbled, dropping your hand back to your side and taking a step back, allowing Deacon to take off the handcuffs for the brothers. Sam was the first one to go free, making you immediately lunge forward to wrap your arms around him, pulling the man into a tight hug that you’d been itching to do. “God, I miss you guys. These past few days have been mentally exhausting.”

Sam pulled away from the hug, a smile of his own spreading across his lips from the relief that flooded over him. “You’re telling me.” He mumbled, letting his eyes drift over to his brother, knowing the man’s dedication to settle a debt was the reason all of this had began in the first place. “I understand why we keep you around, after all. Someone needs to make sure we don’t end in the same kind of predicament again.”

“What? It wouldn’t be so bad if someone wasn’t playing the part too well.” Dean mumbled. Your attention drifted to the older man standing in front of all you. “Deacon, you are beating the holy hell out of me, man.”

“Sorry, Dean. Here I thought I was going easy on you.” The warden apologized, turning around the oldest brother so he could take off the handcuffs. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a small chuckle from the realistic behavior the man had been forced to deal with. “Just, uh, trying to make it look real.”

“Yeah, well, mission accomplished.” Dean mumbled, rubbing his wrists for a moment to relieve the aching pain from the bonds. You could feel his eyes finally linger on to you, knowing very well the last time the both of you had spoke to one another, it was nothing but words twisting themselves into an argument about who was right. But from the way his lips were stretching themselves into a smirk, you knew the previous feelings from the day before were long gone. “And here I thought you were going to listen to me for a change.”

“Do I ever?” You asked, taking a step forward and pulling the oldest brother into a hug for a omens before ending it. But your happiness faded for a moment when you reached up a hand to smack the man against the shoulder, letting all the anger you were previously harvesting for the past day bubble to the surface. “And don’t you ever think about doing something like again. If you do, I’ll make sure the both of you really rot in jail for the rest of your natural born lives. Is it over at least?”

“No.” Sam says, breaking the bad news. You had a feeling you were right about this one, but you kept silent, wondering if any of their prison connections came up. “Turns out it wasn’t Moody.”

“Really?” Deacon asked. “Then who?”

“We think it’s a nurse that used to work here. But we’re still shy on the Intel we need.” Sam explained to the both of you.

“Which is why we should stick around until we find it.” Dean suggested. You opened your mouth, having a feeling you had the exact information they were needing. But the thought died at the tip of your tongue.

“Guys—”

Sam turned to face his brother, “You want to have this fight for real, Dean?” Again, you reached inside your pocket to pull out a piece of paper, all the information they needed to wrap this hunt up. Still, they chose to ignore you. “We got to go. We gotta go, now.”

“Hey, guys—”

“We got to leave now, Dean. Otherwise we’ll be leaving in shackles heading for Milwaukee with Henricksen and Y/N as company!”

“Oh, come on!”

“GUYS.”

“What!?” The brothers repeated in unison, snapping their heads forward to see why you had cut off their argument that had seemed to have been so important. You rolled your eyes from their tone of voice directed at you, but you waved around the piece of paper like it was a sign of peace. Their faces scrunched up, wondering what you were holding.

You handed it over to Dean, allowing him to open up the paper and read the printed information about the woman everyone seemed to have agreed on. It was a moment before you could see his face brighten up from what he was holding, a chuckle even escaped his mouth as he glanced up at you. “There’s the inner Nancy Drew I know and love about you, Y/N. I knew you would come around for me.”

Sam let out a scoff, “No, you didn’t. And while you have that big mouth open, why don’t you share with the class, Dean?”

“Nurse Glockner, kind of a serious bitch from what I read up on her. She happened to have died in the old cellblock right after an inmate named Mark Moody passed from a heart attack. But something about his death didn’t seem right to me. So I dug deeper.” You explained. “She was involved in a pretty nasty riot. Unfortunately, she got in the middle of it and a few inmates dragged her to the old cell. Beat the crap out of her. The official cause of death was a severe cerebral edema.”

“Someone bashed her head in.” Sam said, speaking words everyone could understand a bit more. “Y/N, did you find out where she was buried, too.”

“Yup. I gave the both of you some clues of where the cemetery is. I thought it would be more fun to have a scavenger hunt since all of us have been under so much stress.” You replied in a calm tone, watching as Sam wasn’t hesitant to drop his face into a serious, almost threatening glare. You cracked a smile and pointed at the bottom of the paper where Dean was reading. “Relax, Sammy. This isn’t my first rodeo. ”

“All right, then.” Deacon said. He walked across the room, heading for a vent that looked to be big enough to fit the brothers out of the prison without it being too messy. He took off the cover, letting it sit against the wall. “Let’s get you boys the hell out of here.”

“Don’t worry, Deacon.” Dean said, heading over to the guard with you and his brother trailing behind. “We’ll get rid of the thing.”

“Good. Cause I want it out of my prison.” The older man said, his tone of voice was nothing short of a command. You knew he cared about his job and the inmates inside these walls. He was the perfect man to do this job, he cared about the deaths while some would shrug it off. Deacon took a few steps forward until he was standing across from the three of you. “Boys, uh, I can’t thank you enough for this. I know it was asking a lot, but you really came through. Your daddy raised you right.”

“Well, we owed you.” Sam said, knowing if it wasn’t for the man standing in front of them, they wouldn’t be here today.

“Hope to see you all again.” Deacon said, giving both of the boys a quick hug from the work they’d done for him and the risk they put themselves through. “Just not in here, okay?”

“We’ll try our best.” Sam replied, cracking a small smile before he trailed behind his brother who was making it for the escape.

You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as the both of them headed for the exit, just about to start their great escape, but Dean stopped in his tracks, finding the most important detail of this entire plan. “Oh.” He mumbled, turning around to face Deacon. “Where do you want it?”

“What?” Deacon asked, not sure what the man was hinting about. Dean gave him a crooked smile. The thought came in after that, knowing there had to be signs of struggle to make this entire plan come through. He pointed a finger at the left side of his cheek, giving the man a perfect spot. Dean got ready to throw a punch, but just as he was nearly heading for the target, the older man stopped him. “Make it look real, son.”

Dean let out a chuckle, giving the man another smile before he threw the hardest punch he could muster up that would make it seem real enough. Deacon took it like a champ, taking the blow like it was almost nothing, but still fought it off with a pain as you could see the swelling coming forward. By the time you were done making sure that the man was okay, you noticed the brothers were long gone. Now it was your turn to make your own escape. 

“Are you gonna hit me too, kid?” Deacon mumbled, seeming to have regained his normal self again. You gave him a look from the nickname he seemed to have been used on you this entire time before a smile spread across your lips, leaning over to give him a hug from all the work he’d done for the boys. “Thanks again for the work you’ve put in here, Y/N. You’re a real sweetheart. John would be proud to know he’s got someone like you watching out for his boys.“

"Well, they’ve been like my family for the past decade after my mom passed away. We all sort of look out for one another.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It was really nice meeting you, Deacon. I can’t thank you enough for giving me the intel of what was going on.”

"Well, it’s the least I could do. Now get yourself out of here, kid. You’ve got about five minutes before I have to hit the alarm.” He said, nodding his head for the front exit. “Be quiet and hide if you see someone walking down the hall. But if you happen to be spotted, pretend to be someone looking for me. It’ll be enough to get you out of here without too much trouble. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

\+ + +

Your heartbeat was pounding inside your chest as you headed inside your hotel room after making the trip back from the prison. Never in your life have you felt a high from adrenaline, knowing you were doing something so dangerous. You and the brothers had little time to speak about a plan that you were going to do. You still had loose ends of your own that needed to be wrapped up. The rental car would be picked up tomorrow at noon from the hotel parking lot. A taxi would take you to the cemetery with your belongings. It seemed you were almost in the clear.

You immediately got yourself focused on packing, shoving whatever piece of dirty clothes or notes you written about the hunt in your bag, knowing you could organize it tomorrow. As you got yourself focused into a routine, you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks when you heard the sound of the hotel door being knocked on. You glanced down at your watch, knowing you had almost fifteen minutes before the taxi was to come. When you heard a knock coming again, but this time, it turned into almost vicious pounding. You dropped the clothes were trying to fold, nervously swallowing as you approached the door.

You were hoping it was just the boys making a surprise visit because they wanted to move things faster, but who you saw when you opened the door was the last person you wanted to see for the rest of your life. There stood Henriksen and his partner, whatever his name was. One with a grin spreading across his lips from the shocked expression forming across your face, the other one was boring holes into your forehead. They really are quick.

“Oh, Y/N. ” Henriksen said, his lips slowly stretching into a tight frown. “You have no idea how much trouble you’ve just landed yourself in.” 

\+ + +

Your hands pressed themselves against the cold metal table that sat directly center in the interrogation room. Your eyes glanced at the clock with each minute that passed by, knowing it was one of the small pieces of body language that you couldn’t control. Everything about keeping yourself calm, don’t show too much anger or furrow your brows chanted itself through your mind when you watched as Henricksen and his partner stared at you with interest, waiting for the moment you were going to crack and tell them everything about the prison break that happened less than an hour ago. But you were remaining silent, waiting until one of them cracked under pressure.

Maybe if you waited long enough, one of them would forget the fancy training they had learned back at the academy, harass you in a way that proved they were too unfit to do this case. But it seemed his partner was almost trying not to smirk to himself about the situation that you landed yourself in. His hands were shoved inside his dress pockets as he lingered in the corner, allowing the other man to take control of the interview, as they were calling it. But you knew this was all about some faulty evidence and an eyewitness that “saw” you leaving the prison right before the alarm went off. It was probably some inmate trying to find a way to get more freedom in that place. They really were desperate at trying to pin something on you.

“I told you. I don’t know anything.” You said, making sure you were giving Henricksen direct eye contact. You pressed your hands harder on the table when you could feel them wanting to curl up in a fist. “I was packing for my flight when you guys showed up. Why would I help the Winchesters escape  
prison?”

“Because you’ve helped them do other things you won’t tell us about.” Henricksen remarked, leaning over the table so he was seeming more intimidating to you. You let out a scoff and rolled your eyes, finding his act nothing more than comical. “Come on, Y/N. Speak to us. Tell us what you know about the brothers. Because believe it or not, we’re trying to help. We want you away from them before it gets worse.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, not expecting him to be passive about the threats he was hinting around. But you weren’t sure what he was exactly getting at. “What are you talking about?” You asked them.

“You know how the brothers are. Down to the last sin they committed. They’re manipulative. Trained like soldiers. Sammy’s not too bad. But his brother, he’s a ticking timebomb.” Henriksen began, he lifted up a finger and motioned for his partner to step forward. You watched as he took out the folder that he had underneath his arm. It was a moment before familiar pictures of crime scene photos were placed out on the table. “I want you to look at them, Y/N. Pretend how they felt right before their brutal ending. How scared they must have been from someone who claimed that he just wanted to help. They had to watch that man turn into the monster he really is.”

You nervously swallowed when you watched as each detailed, glossy photograph from past cases were slowly slipped onto the table. The first one was of Emily, the first victim of a shifter back in St. Louis. You had to see her battered and bruised face all over again. The next one was of Anthony and Karen Giles. A perfect shot of their bloody bodies lying on the ground with their throats slit clean, almost to the bone. One of the last photographs was of another shifter from the bank. You knew that kill was because of you. But you could see her eyes were wide open, staring off into oblivion. And the last photograph that caught your attention was a familiar one, the one of you from the beating you’d took back in the Giles case.

“You could say you were in the wrong place, wrong time.” Henricksen said, making you look up at him again. You remained silent. He suddenly seemed to have shift from the narcissistic, loudmouth agent you had only seen this entire trip. You could almost see him trying to be empathetic, like he was treating you like one of Dean’s many victims. He thought Dean had laid a hand on you before. You looked at the clock one more time, your fingers wrapped themselves together in a fist. “Tell us, Y/N. You know where they are. But if you don’t come clean, I will have to charge you with aiding and abetting. We have those papers. And I sure as hell can find more evidence to lock you away for the rest of your life.”

“Fine.” You mumbled, your voice was barely louder than a whisper. You knew this was exactly what they wanted to see. Let out a shaky sigh, glancing around the room before focusing your attention on him. "I–I visited them before they left. Dean wanted to me do some research on a prison nurse that died in 1976.”

“What? Why?” Henricksen questioned you. He got up from the table, standing up straighter from your answer he wasn’t expecting to hear right away. You shrugged your shoulders, looking at him straight in the eye. “What else?”

“They wanted to know where she was buried.” You answered.

“Did you find out?” He asked, you nodded your head. “Did you tell them?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, giving him the answers that he wanted to hear. You glanced away and stared at the table when the agent let out a frustrated sigh, taking a few steps around the room before you could see him coming from the corner of your eye. He took a seat on the edge of the table. After a moment, you looked at him with a worried expression. I–I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. Am I in trouble?“

"Tell me, Y/N.” Henriksen leaned over. “Where are they?”

You couldn’t take lying anymore. You slowly reached out a hand to grab the legal pad and pen they had placed on the table for a written confession. But you instead wrote down a quick note, ripping it off the pad and folded it up before giving it to the agent. “Mountainside Cemetery.” You answered him. “And when you catch them, will you give this to Dean? It’s a note explaining why I had to do this. But, please, don’t let him read it until you get there.”

“Reidy, I want you to call for a cab. Then make reservations at a hotel across town for Y/N."The agent ordered at his partner, shoving the note inside his suit jacket pocket. "And when you’re done with that, I want every available police officer headed to Mountainside Cemetery in the next half an’ hour. But you wait until my command.” You watched as the man nodded his head, heading out of the room and down somewhere else. You reached up a hand to wipe away a few tears that threatened to escape, but you managed to catch them in time. "You did the right thing, Y/N. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you’re helping us catch a very dangerous group of brothers. You’ve just saved a lot of lives.”

“I know. I just feel like a snitch.” You mumbled, lowering your voice. You sniffled a few times before pointing a finger at the door. “Do you mind if head to the bathroom for a moment? I need to compose myself. Don’t want everyone seeing what a mess I look like.”

Henricksen nodded his head, letting you up from the table so you could slip out the door and into the hall where almost nobody was around. Wiping away the tears you forced out, you made a quick turn on the path to the bathroom and headed straight for the fire exit where nobody was around to guard.

You stepped out into the cold, night air where you saw a neon yellow taxi waiting for you like it had been after Deacon tipped off the driver about the new change of plans. You slipped inside the car where all your bags were placed inside the trunk and a jacket was waiting in the backseat. As you slipped it on, you reached a hand inside your pocket to pull out an envelope of cash that totaled up to almost two grand in small bills. Handing it over to the driver, you smiled at him when the last step of the plan was complete.

“Green Valley Cemetery, please.”

\+ + +

It took about a half an hour before you arrived at the cemetery. You thanked the driver again for the help he’s been before you went over and grabbed your belongings from the trunk. You tossed them to the parked Impala and left them for a moment, knowing there wasn’t a chance Henricksen was smart enough to figure out the plan you made before it was too late. He was at the point where he would believe anything you told him that would get him near the brothers. And so you lead him on, giving him a detail that you thought was good enough. But he was right about one thing, you were saving lives from what you did.

When the taxi pulled out of the cemetery, vanishing from sight, you decided to make your way into the graveyard with the moonlight above as your source of light. But it was easy to see the silhouette of the brothers’ bodies from the fire. As you stepped on a leaf that crunched underneath your weight, you could see them jump into a cautious position, peering over their shoulder to see who it was. Nothing but pure surprise spread across their faces. You ignored their glances as you stepped between them, peering down at the burning corpse below.

“They’ve got every police officer and FBI agent looking for you two. I wouldn’t be surprised if the swat team was called, too. They should be arriving in the next ten minutes.” You said, breaking the silence that fell between all of you. From the fire, you could see their jaws beginning to tighten from the news when you glanced back at them. “At Mountainside Cemetery. Halfway across town, enough time for all of us to make a quick getaway, like always.”

"Y/N, what you did was dangerous–”

“It’s not like I had any other choice, Dean. And you know what? I can make grown up decisions for myself. I’m so friggin’ sick and tired of everyone treating me like a child!” You snapped at the brothers. Suddenly you were at your breaking point with everyone treating you like an innocent, confused woman who didn’t know what was right from wrong. “You seem to forget I’ve been through a lot we you guys over the past few years. I’ve been beaten and stabbed. I’ve been burned. I’ve been kidnapped God know’s how many times. A little FBI agent isn’t going to make me come undone.”

“You’re in it for the long haul, kiddo.” You could hear Dean mumble the comment underneath his breath. But you didn’t care. Everything was all said and done, you couldn’t change your mind.

All of you stuck around a little longer before the corpse was officially burned to nothing more than ash. The brothers made sure to fill back up the grave, making it look like nothing had ever happened here. You trailed behind the boys as you glanced over at the gravesite one more time before heading over to the car, watching as Dean loaded in your bags into the trunk with the supplies from the hunt. Back on the road, with this time, almost no chance of being able to go back home for quite a while. You slipped yourself into the car, slamming the backseat door shut behind you.

Dean closed the the top of the trunk with a forceful slam, making the car shift around a bit in weight. He glanced over at his brother, knowing the both of them were in serious trouble. And they had dragged you in deeper, more than they ever wanted.

“Thought we were screwed before?” Sam asked his brother, as he walked over to the passenger side.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Dean muttered, brushing off his little brother’s concern. They were going to be hunted like dogs. If they thought life on the road was bad before, it had gotten worse. “We gotta go deep this time.”

“Deep, Dean?” Sam chuckled out. “We should go to Yemen.”

“Ooh, I’m not sure I’m ready to go that deep.” Dean said, thinking this would be the appropriate to crack a joke. But it caused his brother to give him a weak smile. The both of them finally slipped themselves inside the car, joining you for the long drive across the states to find a better plan for the change of plans.

You could hear the engine roaring to life, the sound should have made you feel relieved inside. But when you saw the clock tick to midnight, you leaned back in your seat and let out a breath. Henricksen was now standing in the middle of an empty field, looking like an idiot in front of all of those people. And about to discover the little note you left him as a going away present.

\+ + +

Henricksen could see the sign for the Mountainside Cemetery come into view after spending the last hour driving around. He glanced in his rear view mirror to see the trail of police cars and swat team following behind. This was going to be one of the biggest nights of his life, catching the Winchesters that have been nothing but a thorn in his side. He could put this case to bed and move onto more important things to bed. There was the thrill of the hunt that always made the long hours of research and interrogations worth it–all for this very moment.

The two FBI stepped out of the car, making sure all the necessary gear was working properly as they watched several members of swat came out of the car, knowing they were here to take any precaution needed. Henricksen had heavily ordered all of the men to bring the Winchesters alive. He knew how well trained they were, but the agent was confident about one thing. He was smarter than the both of those men combined. He was going to drag them in alive and make sure they got the punishment they rightfully deserved.

Everyone took the position and went in for the kill; Henricksen took the lead, making sure his gun was out and quietly made his way through the rustle of dead leaves and empty tree branches. As he headed deeper into the woods with everyone following behind, the sight of graveyards soon thinned out. But what laid ahead was something Henricksen wasn’t counting on. This had to be a mistake.

What he was standing on was just an empty field. There were no Winchesters in sight.

“You sure this the right damn cemetery?” Henricksen questioned his partner.

“She said Mountainside.” Reidy answered. “Mountainside Cemetery.”

Henricksen let out a bitter chuckle, suddenly feeling like a complete fool. How could he have not known all of this? You let him think you were going to do the right thing, but it was all a trap.He reached up a hand and pressed it against his chest, feeling the outline of the note that he thought meant for Dean. “It’s a note explaining why I had to do this. But, please, don’t let him read it until you get there.” You had said to him before handing the note over

Reaching a hand inside his jacket pocket, he pulled out the folded note and tried reading what you had written that clearly wasn’t for the oldest Winchester. It was for him. What he read made his fingers tightly weave together in a fist, crushing the paper into a tight ball. But the words echoed in his head once more. Your body language seemed like you were telling the truth. And you were emotional. All typical signs in cases where people that confessed. But you played him like a fool.

You know by now I’m more than just a pretty face and a great liar. But my mother taught me well, didn’t she? She also taught me something else. The Devil’s in the details.


	20. What is and What Should Never Be.

You peeked your head out of the motel window; the curtains were pushed back with a free hand allowing just enough of your face to be seen, wondering what was going outside in the darkened parking lot. Sam was sitting inside the motel room, seeming to have been so deep into research, he didn’t notice the police car outside with its flashing lights, like some sort of warning. You heard the ringing on the other end of the phone stop after three, leaving a sense of relief wash through you when it was Dean who picked up.

“There’s a cop car outside.” You blurted out the information. You seemed to have been the only one that was almost worried about being hauled off into police custody. For the past few days, you were nothing short of a worry wart. In the brother’s terms, at least. “It’s been out there for the past fifteen minutes.”

“You think it’s for us?” Dean asked in a concerned tone. You knew the fear in your voice was easy to detect. You mumbled something about not knowing before you dropped the curtain just enough when you spotted a shadowy figure pass by the window. “I don’t see how. We ditched the plates, the credit cards. ”

You could see two familiar figures step out from the motel room and head back to the police car, seeming to have caught up with nothing. You stepped back from the window and let out a sigh of relief when the car drove off into the night. “They’re leaving. False alarm.” You declared, making you turn your attention back to the massive amount of books spread around the room. Sam was wearing a grin, letting out small chuckles from your paranoia. “Shut it, Sasquatch.”

“See, Y/N? Nothing to worry about.” Dean said, you rolled your eyes from the man’s confidence about the situation. But you had to admit he’s been patient with you about being on the run with them. You had left Henriksen a pretty ballsy note that you thought would keep a sense of pride, but now it’s only reduced you into someone who’d kept looking over their shoulder.

“Being on the run with fugitives is a freaking dance party.“ You muttered underneath your breath as you took a step away from the window. "God, I’m losing my mind.”

“Hey, Y/N, give yourself some credit. You were pretty badass for what you did back there. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Dean said. You could almost see the smirk just by the tone of his voice when he continued. “And, you know, it was kind of hot to see you take control like that. I dig that in a girl.”

You could feel a heat creeping into the color of your cheeks from his comment, diverting your attention away from Sam when he gave you a look, wondering what his brother was saying. “In your wildest dreams, Winchester. And if you talk to me like that again, I’ll punch you in the throat.” You said. But you ended up contradicting your last statement when you let out a small a laugh, following his own from your threat. “So, did you get anything?”

“Are you kidding me? How could I?” Dean asked, you took a seat down on the bed right next to Sam. “You guys got me sifting through fifty square miles of real estate.”

“Hold on a sec, I’m putting you on speaker.” You said, making it easier for you and Sam to speak to the man. “Okay. That’s where all the victims disappeared.”

"Yeah, well, I got diddly-squat.” Dean declared. “What about you two?”

“Just one thing—I’m pretty sure of it now.” Sam said, leaning over so he pulled over one of the many books all of you had placed out on a desk table. “We’re hunting a jinn.”

“A freaking jinni?” Dean asked, almost with comical disbelief what the both of you had been thinking what was the monster of the week. “You think these suckers can really grant wishes?”

“I don’t know. I guess they’re powerful enough,” Sam continued, reaching over for another book that was currently behind you. You twisted around and tried to lift up the heavy boom with your free hand, you dropped it to your lap and opened it up back on the spot that was previously bookmarked. “But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harman pants. Jinns have been feeding off people for centuries. They’re all over the Koran.”

“My God. Barbara Eden was hot, wasn’t she? And way hotter than that ‘Bewitched’ chick.” Dean seemed to have rambled on with the thought, making you let out a scoff and roll your eyes.

“And here I thought you were leading me on with sweet nothings.” You joked with him, all before making him focus on the case again. “Are you even, listening to me, Winchester?”

Dean cleared his throat, seeming to have been caught off from the thoughts that plagued his mind for a moment before getting himself to focus once more. “Yeah. So, where do you jinns lair up?”

“Ruins, mostly. The bigger the better—more places for them to hide.” You said, seeming to have stumbled across the information as you skimmed the pages of the book. “Of course, that could be almost any of the abandoned buildings we seen when coming here.”

“I saw a place a couple miles back. I’ll go check it out.” Dean declared. You looked over at Sam with a worried expression, wondering if this was a good idea. There was enough trouble following all of you, and with the monster that could have been the cause of the disappearances, you didn’t have a good feeling about this.

“Wait. No, no, no.” You suddenly said, jumping up from the bed, almost forgetting about the book you had inside your lap before it fell to the floor with a heavy thud that echoed through the motel room. “Come pick us up first. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be out there alone.”

“Relax, kiddo. I’m sure it’s nothing. I just want to take a look around.” Dean seemed to have shot down the idea just as quick from when you brought it up. A moment later, you could hear the sounds of the dial tone echoing through your ears, making you roughly slam a finger against the end button in frustration.

You tossed the phone onto the bed, leaving your fingers to subconsciously wrap themselves together, trying to keep the nervous feeling to a minimum. There was something strange sitting inside your gut. You had a bad feeling about this hunt. “You heard him, Y/N. He’ll be fine.” You turned your attention away from the wall to see that Sam was sitting back on the bed again, patting a spot for you and waving around the remote. You glanced over to see some black and white monster movie was playing in the background. “Now come on, Shrimp. We’ve got to watch some of Dean’s favorite movie before he comes back and makes all those annoying comments.”

Barely managing a smile, you headed over to the free bed and plopped yourself down. Forcing yourself to watch this monster was almost like a chore. Some monster that looked like some sort of swamp creature carrying away the unconscious damsel in distress. This would be the part where Dean would make a comment with a mouth full of junk food. You slowly pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, knowing your mind wasn’t going to stop worrying until you saw Dean step through the motel door.

\+ + + 

 

Dean Winchester’s Point of View.

Dean thought it was going to be a routine sweep. He could handle something like that without you or his brother around to help. He kept reliving the last conversation he had. The nervousness in your voice should have been a sign that danger could have been lurking anywhere, but he ignored the feeling. The man doesn’t remember much from what happened in the building he went into. Everything about the moments were blurry in his head. But he remembered one thing, concret ground wasn’t this comfortable and warm. Something was wrong. This didn’t feel right to him.

It took him a moment to register the sounds of a TV lowly humming in the background and someone else’s deep breaths jump out from the sleeping state he was in. Dean jumped up and placed both hands on what he discovered was a bed, inside a room he’d never seen before. He noticed that he was heavily breathing from the brief moment of panic that was slowly turning itself into curiosity. His eyes swept over the bedroom until his eyes lingered over to the flat screen TV that was still on. It was one of his favorites movies playing in the middle of the night. He remembered talking about it to you and his brother, saying he wanted to see it again.

But he could feel shifting around in the bed making him realize there was someone else here. Dean slowly turned his head around to see it was. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion; there was a petite body wrapped up in the sheets. His eyes lingered over a long leg that was peeking out until he trailed up, wondering who it was. He slowly leaned over to take a peek at the sleeping face. Who was sleeping was someone so familiar. He recognized the familiar color of hair, the way the woman’s lips curled out when she slept. He had seen this before. Hell, he dreamed about this moment on a few occasions. This couldn’t be real.

Dean managed to stumble out of the bed, stepping on a few discarded pieces of clothing that were messily thrown on the floor. He had to look through all of the drawers and doors in the bedroom until he found clothes that looked at least close enough to his own. He got dressed as quick as he could and stumbled out of the bedroom. Dean walked through the halls, peeking into a few rooms that he discovered were just the bathroom and someone’s office before he found the living room. It was still dark from the night, so he reached out an arm and flicked on the light.

It might have been one living pad he wouldn’t mind staying in, but this wasn’t right. He wandered around the room until he found a cell phone lying on the coffee table. He immediately reached for it, happy to know that it was fully charged and service. Looking through the contacts, there was a few names that seemed unfamiliar, that was, until Sammy popped up on the screen with the same number. Not wasting another second, he hit the button and pressed it to his ear. There was only two rings before the same voice of his brother’s filled the other line.

“Dean?”

“Sam.” The older brother whispered.

“What’s going on?” He asked, seeming concerned enough.

“I don’t know.” Dean admitted, cautiously glancing around the house to see if there was something lurking in the shadows. But he was still alone. “I don’t know where I am.”

"What?” His brother questioned. “What happened?”

“Well, the jinn,” Dean tried to explain what he could remember. “it attacked me.”

“Gin?” Sam asked his brother, seeming to have been lost in translation from what the other man said. His voice faltered away from concern, slowly growing into annoyance. “You’re drinking gin?” 

“No, ass-hat, the jinn,” Dean corrected, stressing the last word. He continued pacing around the room as familiar memories began to play around in his mind again. “The scary creature, remember? It put its hands on me, and then I woke up to–to, you know…”

“Who–Y/N?” Sam asked with no concern at all. It like all of this was completely normal. He let out a small chuckle. “Dean, you’re drunk. You’re drunk-dialing me.”

“I am not drunk.” Dean hissed over the phone. “Quit screwing around.”

"Look, it’s late.” Sam said, seeming to have had enough with the man’s obvious panic that was translating into nothing. “Just get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Wait, Sam! Sam!”

But the older man was greeted with was nothing more than just the obvious dial tone on the other end. He let out a frustrated sigh and dropped his arm to his side, knowing there was something strange going on here. He glanced around the room to see if there was any sort of clues to figuring out what was going on. There was a stack of envelopes on the table, just a few steps from where Dean was standing. He shoved the phone into his pocket for safekeeping and headed over, grabbing the handful of letters sitting on the table. He read the sender’s name that was written in the top left corner; Ella and Andrew Y/L/N. But the most troubling thing he read was who it was addressed to in neat cursive, Y/N Winchester.

He didn’t know what was going on. But as he continued flipping through a few letters that were addressed to him, he could see the address and zip code that seemed so familiar to him. “Lawrence?” He mumbled underneath his breath. “What the hell?”

“Honey?” The sound of your familiar voice made him jump in fright. He slowly looked over his shoulder to see that you were standing there, looking different from what he’d remember before leaving on the hunt. You were dressed in nothing more than one of his shirts, the red one. You always said it was one of your favorites on him. And you always had a habit of stealing his shirts to sleep in. But he just stared at you, wondering if all of this was real. You took a step forward, giving him a smile. “What are you doing up?”

Dean nervously placed down the papers, taking a few steps backwards when he saw you slowly coming toward him. You raised your eyebrows in curiosity, not stopping until he was cornered into the table. “Hey. Y/N.” He made himself speak, trying to get the words out without sound like an idiot. “Y/N, uh, I just, uh—”

“Oh, you can’t sleep?” You asked the man, placing your hands on his chest. Dean let out a forced chuckle, his eyes lingering down to see that there was two rings on your left hand that symbolized a lifetime commitment. He glanced back over at you. A smirk spread across your lips as your hands slowly reached around his neck, making him feel the cold silver and gold bands touch his skin. “Well, why don’t you come back to bed, and let’s see if I can do anything to help.”

"Sure. Yeah. In a minute, sweetheart.” Dean managed to say, feeling the words slip off his tongue like it was natural. As if he had done this a million times before in this lifetime. “You go ahead.”

You nodded your head, leaning yourself up on your tippy toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading off back to the bedroom, leaving the man seeming in nothing more than a daze. You looked over your shoulder once more to give the man a playful wink before disappearing altogether from sight, letting him finally panic about what was going on. This couldn’t be real, he was screaming to himself. All of this was some sort of dream.

Dean found himself heading over to a wall that was filled with all sorts of pictures and frames that lingered off from the bookcase to the wall. His attention focused itself on an old picture he could remember from anywhere; it was all of his family and yours back when you were kids, huddled together and happy. Before the nightmare began. But as his attention lingered to another picture, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was another picture just above it that contradicted everything he grew up with. You were standing in a picture that looked like it was taken just a few years ago with the same faces in the previous picture, but they were older looking.

You were standing out in the middle of a field with a large building behind you that looked a little familiar. From the clothes you were dressed in, it looked like you were graduating from college with your proud parents right next to your side. Right across from the picture frame there was at least half a dozen books neatly stacked together. Out of curiously, he grabbed one of hardcover book from the shelf that caught his previous attention. He saw that it was some sort of mystery novel from the title. The name on the bottom made his eyes widen. He quickly ripped open the book and stumbled to the author’s note, making his suspicions come true.

I want to dedicate the last book in this series, like always, to my beautiful daughter, Y/N. She has been nothing short of an inspiration through the years. And I’m proud to say, after speaking to my editor to make sure this was allowed, she graduated from Stanford just after I finished this novel. (Top of her class!) My wife and I are nothing but proud. She is now become her own Nancy Drew and discover her own adventures out in this big world. – Andrew Y/L/N. 

Dean slammed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. He slowly turned his head away from the bookshelf for a moment to stare at the picture frame hanging off the wall. Sure enough, he could see a diploma for Stanford University hanging proudly on the wall. He could feel a small smile spreading across his lips as he turned his attention back to the bookshelf. All sorts of pictures between the both of you painted out a happy life; there was one of you and him that looked to be taken not that long ago, sharing a glass of wine with a grin spread across your lips. The one that caught the most attention was one of you and him outside on a beautiful sunny day. You were in a traditional wedding dress, and somehow he was all cleaned up and wearing a suit.

He lifted up his left arm and stared at the golden wedding band for the longest time. You and him were  
. Just the thought made him weak in the knees and feel like the room was spinning around him. But he reminded himself there had to be some sort of trick going on here. As he glanced around the room, he turned his attention to another part of the room. But what laid on the other side of it made his heart pound inside his chest. This couldn’t be real.

Dean stomped over to the other shelf and snatched the picture frame off the shelf. He stared at the blonde woman for the longest time. Sammy had no idea what was going on. And it seemed your parents were alive and well. What if she was, too? Without thinking more about it, he dropped the picture frame to the floor, letting the glass shatter, and stormed out the front door. 

\+ + +

You let out a sigh of annoyance from the sunshine that glared through the windows, not ever being a morning person. You knew today was a big one, between the assignment at work that was due in just a few days time and Mary’s birthday you and Dean still had to shop for, your mind was already planning for the day. As you reached out a hand to touch your husband, you could feel your eyes pop open from the feeling of an empty bed. You turned your head to see that he was gone, just like last night. He was acting a bit funny, maybe he was drinking. that bottle of whisky your parents gave the both of you for an anniversary present after their trip of Scotland.

"Dean?” You called out the man’s name, waiting to hear his familiar footsteps echo off the wooden floors. But after a moment, there was nothing but silence as a response. You tossed off the sheets and swung your legs off the bed, deciding to see if he had passed out on the couch. “Honey, where are you?”

You wandered through the home again, but still, there was nothing around. You glanced over at the clock to see that it was just after six, too early for him to head for the autoshop. Walking to the window, you let out a sigh from the sight. His car wasn’t in the driveway. You knew something was wrong, but you tried not letting your mind get too far. Maybe him and his brother were out for a run. Dean had been saying that he wanted to start getting out more for exercise, you wondered if they patched over a few old wounds. You walked over to the table and grabbed the phone, typing in your brother-in-law’s phone number that you tried to remember. It rang a few times before the familiar tone answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sam,” You tried your hardest to sound nice, but the underlying icy tone could always be heard when you talked to the younger man. It wasn’t hard for the both of you to show how much loathing you had for one another. “It’s me, Y/N. I was just calling to see if Dean was around.”

“Nope.” He said. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes at his short answer. “But he did call me last night. Sounded a bit drunk.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“He was rambling on a bit about something with gin. I don’t know. I hung up on him.” Sam said, seeming like everything was normal. It had happened once or twice in the past when you and Dean drank a little too much on holidays. Your eyes wandered down to the familiar picture frame that someone must have dropped on the floor. “He’s probably walking it off right now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You mumbled, knowing Dean was looking at the photograph of his mourner before dropping it. The idea of where he could be seemed clear enough now. “Okay. Thanks, I guess.”

You could hear the smallest scoff escape the man’s mouth before you ended the call, keeping yourself from making a comment. It was already a pain enough the both of you were forced to head out tonight for a family dinner with everyone. You got up from the floor and began typing in another number, knowing they were up at this time of hour. Retirement had made them early risers. You waited a few moments before the familiar chipper voice echoed through your ears, making a small smile spread across your lips. It always made you feel safe.

“Good morning to you, too. Actually, I was calling for a silly favor from you and her.” You said, greeting the familiar voice you heard just a few days ago. “Can you look out the window and tell me if you see Dean’s car in Mrs. Winchester’s driveway? Thanks, Daddy.”

\+ + +

Coming back to your old neighborhood seemed more like a chore nowadays from everything you had going on in your life. You managed to confirm with our parents, after a few minutes of them tossing the phone back and forth, that Dean was in fact at Mrs. Winchester’s house. He must have been pretty out of it. You were happy to know that he was safe, after all. There was a thought of being able to settle at home with the possibility of getting some work done on your current project that crossed your mind. But it quickly died when your mother started nagging you. She was going on about making sure everything was perfect for tonight after spending days planning a special birthday for Sam and Dean’s mother.

You pulled into the driveway of your childhood home; the same appearance was almost like how it was just last week after meeting them for dinner while Dean worked late. He swung around by for a bit, after finishing a client’s car, knowing your mother always made his favorite dessert just the way he liked it. You let out a quiet sigh and headed out of the car, looking over your shoulder quickly to glance over at the Winchester house. The brothers and you grew up together, been through everything.

You squinted your eyes when you saw a familiar figure standing in the window just staring at you. When you tried waving at Dean, he was at of sight just in the moment you blinked your eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“Y/N, sweetheart is that you?” Ella, your darling mother, was standing in the doorway like the curious woman she was. You turned your head and gave your mother a smile, nodding your head. She was looking more tired these days from her older age, but the same warm grin she always greeted with her young students still made you feel welcome. “Well don’t stand out there all day. I need your honest opinion on something.”

"Yes, mother.” You mumbled underneath your breath. You looked over at the empty window one more time before turning around and heading to the front door, stepping inside the house. The entire first floor was filled with similar scents of fresh brewed coffee and food. You headed in the dining room area to see your father sitting at the head of the table with a plate full of food and a pen not far from his grasp. You walked over to him, grabbing a piece of bacon before leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek. “What’s that big brain of yours jotting down today?“

"Oh, I was about to outline this story about a young woman who steals bacon from senior citizens.” Andrew began, settling his pen down next to his blank notebook. Ella could be heard from the kitchen to scold her husband about calling the both of them old. You let out a small laugh, taking a seat next to the man. “How’s that big article coming along?”

“Mmm. Dreadful.” You said between chews, but you swallowed when your mother poked her head through. You mumbled an apology, knowing how strict she was about manners. She was endlessly correcting Dean about his mouthful talk, but she could never do it without a smile, knowing it was always compliments about her food. “All I seem to be writing about is death. Josh gave me one about bank robbery in Milwaukee. All victims were found dead before police shot the madman. I’m flying out Sunday night to speak to one of the agents for the psychological piece. I think his name was Henricksen or something. He sounded pretty nice over the phone.”

Ella popped out from the kitchen again with a mug of coffee and plate filled with all your favorite foods. A smile spread across your lips, knowing this was one of the few reasons why you loved coming back home. She placed them down as you mumbled a thank you. As she took a seat at the head of the table, you could tell this was the moment where she was going to speak of disapproval about your job choice. And everything else about your life.

It’s not that she’s unhappy from the choice of going to your father’s direction in doing journalism. Even though you wrote about pieces that were about tragic events, there was at times lingering risks to attract all sorts of psychos. But that’s why you loved this job. Your mother, on the other hand, didn’t want to stumble across her baby in the wrong section of the newspaper—the obituary section.

"Our little Nancy Drew,” Ella began to speak. You counted down until three, waiting for the moment where her tone would become sickly sweet with happiness before dropping. But it didn’t. She ended up changing the subject, all together. “Why don’t we let your father work? I have this new dress for tonight I want you to see. Oh! And Mary’s card, you still need to sign it before we give it to her. Would you please run it over before you leave?”

You could feel a small smile across your lips, suddenly filled with happiness. "Of course.”

Ella seemed to have set her coffee cup down at a fast rate, jumping up from her spot at the table and heading to the stairs, calling out your name to follow along. You glanced over at your father, who gave you a wink before returning his attention back to his fictional characters. You let out a quiet sigh, grabbing your coffee and followed behind your mother. Deep down, you always loved the quality time with her. But you loved teasing her about it more before sucking yourself into the conversation that slowly turned into an afternoon bonding time.

\+ + +

Dean still seemed to have been in a daze with everything that was going on; he spent a little while trying to get back to figuring out what was happening He felt like he’d just stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone. Last night he had learned a few odd details, one of them being his father wasn’t around anymore because of a fatal stroke that took his life. But he didn’t really care at the moment. His mother was alive and he was sitting in his childhood home. Even from what he had saw earlier, a young woman just staring at him in the campus parking lot, seemed to have faded from his mind when he sunk his teeth into a homemade sandwich.

“Mmm. Mmm. This is the best sandwich ever!” He groaned in approval, thinking this might have been the most decent meal he’d ever had in his entire lifetime. He could hear his mother thank him, letting out a small laugh from her son’s approval that seemed quite odd. “I tried to get ahold of Sam earlier. Where is he?”

“Uh, he’ll be here soon.” She said, walking over to the fridge to put away a few of the ingredients.

“Good. I’m dying to see him.” Dean managed to say, munching down on the last bits of the food before he leaned over to take another bite. He could see his mother coming out from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand, she took a seat across from him. She gave him a confused expression from how he was acting, but it seemed to have went right over his head.

“Sweetie, I-I—don’t get me wrong. I am thrilled you are hanging out here all of a sudden, but, uh, shouldn’t you be at work?” Mary asked her son. Dean seemed to have been taken back from the question, repeating his mother, hoping she would provide the answer. She raised her eyebrows, crinkling her forehead, unconsciously making her wrinkles show. Despite that little flaw, she was still beautiful like he remembered. “At the garage?”

“Right. The garage. That’s where I work.” Dean said, connecting the dots. He was a mechanic. Not a bad choice, he thought to himself. His mother smiled, seeming to have been amused from her son’s behavior. “No, I-I-I’ve got the day off.”

“Good thing.” She chuckled out, resting her elbow on the table. Dean reached over to take another bite, but his eyes flickered up when he heard the sound of someone knocking on the door. Mary excused herself for a moment to see who it was. As Dean got himself into the tune of chewing, he almost choked on his bite when he caught sight of you again. You were talking to his mother, acting like the both of you were the best of friends. A sense of happiness washed over him as a goofy grin spread across his lips. His mother shook her head, giving you a small smile. “He’s been a bit out of it. Oh, tell your mother I said thank you for the card.”

“Your mom?” Dean stumbled out, looking over at you for the answer. You slowly nodded your head. He tried saving himself, thinking of something to cover his tracks from your suspicion. “How are your folks?”

“Pretty good. Dad’s working on yet another novel. And Mom won’t stop picking up classes at school.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully from the mention of your dad. He could feel his heart beat faster in his chest. They were both alive. So, it seemed your dad was a writer and your mother was a teacher. You turned your attention away from his mother. “Hey, you okay?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, taking another bite of the food. You reached over and placed a finger against the corner of his lips. He froze from what you were doing, surprised from the touch. But he relaxed when he felt you wiping away a smudge of food before bringing it to your lips, licking away the evidence. You hummed in approval, nodding your head to his mother. Dean turned his attention to the front yard, something else caught his attention for the moment. “That lawn looks like it could use some mowing.”

You and Mary gave one another confused glances, “You want to mow the lawn?”

“Are you kidding me? I’d love to mow the lawn.” Dean said with happiness.

“And here I can’t get you to load the dishwasher without asking a million times.” You mumbled, placing your hands on your hips. You glanced over at his mother, “You’d think he’d never mowed the lawn in his lifetime. Whatever is happening to him, I wouldn’t mind to keep him around.”

Dean never felt more normal than he did right now. He spent a good fifteen minutes shuffling through a garage full of boxed Christmas decorations and photo albums until stumbling across the lawn mower. It took another good amount of tugs before the engine roared to life, allowing him to push around the machine, cutting the grass until the heavenly scent filled his nostrils. When he had completed the task, he settled back to the porch steps, watching from the distance as your older folks came into view every so often in the open windows. But he could feel his attention being ripped away from the front door being opened. He looked over his shoulder to see you were heading his way with a cold glass bottle.

“I thought you could use this.” You said, walking down the second step until you were sitting right across from him. He glanced down for a moment before taking the drink, mumbling a thank you from your generosity. But before he could release himself from your grip, something strange happened. You leaned over and pressed your lips against his, making his eyes bulge out his head from your unexpected move.

Strange. This is strange. He kept chanting that to himself. But he quickly reminded that the both of you were married. This is what married couples do. But you could feel his hesitation, making you pull away. He thought you were going to grow suspicious, but only a smile began to tug at the end of your lips. “Just like our first kiss. Remember?”

“R—Right. The heat. Must be making my mind a bit foggy, you know.” Dean mumbled with nervousness, shifting the cold bottle around in his grip until it was pressing against his sweaty palms. You narrowed your eyes at him. A forced chuckle escaped his lips. He turned his attention away from you for a moment, trying to find another source of a topic conversation. But his eyes lingered on a blue car that slowly pulled up to the house. Before you knew what was going on, he jumped up from his spot and headed over to his brother’s car. The woman in the passenger side stepped out, and before realizing it, was being embraced into Dean’s ironlike grip. "Ugh! Jessica.”

“Good to see you, too, Dean.” Jessica managed to say. You headed over to the young couple, shrugging your shoulders when the woman tossed you a confused look from how your husband was behaving. “I can’t breathe, okay?”

Dean quickly got the hint, pulling away from the woman to let her body function normally again. You leaned over to wrap your arms around his waist, but you were almost forced forward when he pulled his attention toward his brother. Dean took a good look at the man; he was dressed in something that looked to be a suburban white dad. But he seemed nothing short of happy.

“Sammy. Hey,” He slapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder, which was returned with a confused glare, “Look at you. You’re with Jessica. I don’t believe it. Where’d you guys come from?”

“We just flew in from California last night.” Sam said.

“California. Stanford, huh? Y/N went there, too.” Dean announced, you and Sam exchanged looks before focusing your attention on the older man. “But she went for journalism. Law school for you, I bet.”

“Yeah. Some of want careers that will take them far.” Sam said, sliding in a comment that made him feel your nails dig into the man’s skin. Dean tossed you a worried look, but you seemed nothing short of happy. “And I see you started off Mom’s birthday with a bang, as usual.”

“Wait. Mom’s birthday—that’s today?” Dean asked with almost disbelief.

“Yeah, Dean, that’s today. That’s why they’re here. Don’t tell me you forgot.” You said, giving him a strange look. Dean shrugged his shoulders. A sigh escaped your lips, but he could see a smile spreading across them from what you said next. “Good thing I laid out your outfit for tonight. What would you do without me?” He stared at you with a crooked smile, not sure what he would do, either.

\+ + +

“Babe?” You called out, walking out from the bathroom and down the hall. You were almost dressed for tonight’s dinner without much to do except to zip up your dress and put on your earrings. You wandered down the hall, trying to keep your outfit from slipping down as you tried to find Dean. You caught him standing in the hallway mirror, trying his hardest to fix his tie. You let out a small laugh. “You zip me up and I’ll fix your tie?”

Dean turned his gaze away from the mirror when he heard your voice. You gave him a curious look, wondering what he thought of the new dress you bought for this occasion. It seemed that he was almost speechless, you could feel a smirk spreading across your lips from his reaction. You turned around and moved around your shoulders, hoping that would be the hint for him to zip up your dress. His footsteps are quieter than normal, you don’t seem to register he’s behind you before you feel his fingers touch your skin, making you jump in surprise. His touch is rough and warm like you remember. You can feel his fingers dance around the zipper before the familiar tug of the dress comforts your body.

You turn back around and begin to fix his tie, the both of you remaining in silence before you glance up. You catch him staring at you for the longest time, like he’s drinking up all the little details of your face. “Do I tell you enough of how beautiful you are, Y/N?” Dean asks. You’re thrown off by his voice. It sounds different from the other times he tells you. But all you do is nod your head. “Good.”

But the feeling is washed away when you feel his lips pressing themselves against yours, making you mentally thankful you didn’t apply lipstick yet. When you try to pull away, Dean is tugs you forward, it’s like he doesn’t want it to end. You move your lips in sync with his, wanting to get lost in this sudden passion that takes over him, but the mood is ruined from the front door bell ringing. You pull away with a smack, giving Dean a playful wink.

"Folks are here.”

\+ + +

Dean shifted around in his seat, feeling quite strange to be in a room full of people he once thought were dead. You were sitting next to his side with your mother that was making small talk with her husband, Andrew. It was strange to be able to see the people that made you, old and happy. Jess was across the table, with her boyfriend Sam. And at the head of the round table was his mother, the birthday girl. His thoughts were ripped away when the waiter brought out his food, but what he saw wasn’t something he wanted to touch. It almost looked like it belonged in some cooking magazine than consumption. But he forced a smile when everyone glanced over at him.

“Wow.” Dean mumbled out a quick lie. “That looks amazing.”

The table let out a small laugh, seeming to find the man’s comment nothing short of amusing. But the attention shifted over to Sam, who looked like he was ready to burst with happiness. “All right. To mom.” He said, lifting up his glass to make a toast. Everyone followed in sync, all cheering at the same time, making the woman break out into a grin and lean her forward the other way.

“So,” Ella was the next one to speak up, diverting her attention away from the crowd to look at you and Dean. She looked almost exactly like you—from the way she smiled, the twinkle in her eyes down to the stubborn behavior you’d adopted as your own. But the question that she asked the both of you made him choke on his drink, not expecting to hear this sort of talk come up. “When are we going to start seeing some grandchildren?”

“Oh, God. Not this again.” You muttered to yourself, reaching up a hand to keep the rosy blush creeping alongside your cheeks from showing. Your father seemed to have joined in on the conversation, wondering himself. Dean seemed to have been nothing short of a deer in headlights from the thought about children, wondering if this is what really happened to couples like this. Luckily, you brushed away the mild embarrassment when you glanced over at Dean, leaning over just so the both of you had a bit of privacy. “I was really worried about you last night.”

“Oh, I’m good.” Dean admitted, feeling the ends of his lips stretching into a grin “I’m really good.”

You patted his knee, glancing over at his food for a moment before letting out a small laugh of how ridiculous it looked. “Why don’t we grab something better after this? You know, a bit more editable looking.” You giggled out.

“Oh, God yes.” Dean whispered, feeling his stomach beginning to rumble from the thought of anything else beside this. You gave him a smile, but a thought kept repeating itself in his mind. “How did I ever manage to marry a cool chick like you?”

“Mmm, I just have really low standards.” You joked with him, reaching over a hand to grab your wine glass. Dean let out a small laugh from your joke. “And, you know, my folks seem to like you enough. So I thought, what the hell? I’ve know this kid my entire life and he’s not half-bad looking to kiss right now.”

You and him leaned over to snag a quick kiss from the moment that seemed romantic enough. The thought of being able to do this anytime he wanted made his stomach do twists and flips. This was real, he kept thinking to himself. He actually liked the idea of you being his. But the thought died when he heard someone clearing their throat. The both of you pulled away with embarrassment when Ella was staring at him, the kind of look that made him feel giddy inside after being caught by his mother-in-law. You, on the other hand, brushed a piece of hair away with your fingers,trying to pretend as if nothing happened.

“Oh, Sam,” Ella brought the attention to the younger man, a smile spreading across her lips when she continued speaking. “Why don’t you announce the little project you and I have been discussing.”

“All right. Jess and I have another surprise for Mom’s birthday. And it couldn’t have been possible without Mrs. Y/L/N’s help.” Sam said. The young couple exchange glances for a moment before they broke the news. All of a sudden the room was filled with oohs and gasps when the young blonde lifted up her left hand, showing off a pretty engagement ring that dazzled in the soft fluorescent lights.

Dean could feel the ends of his lips stretching into a grin, so hard his cheeks were beginning to hurt. This was amazing. His little brother was engaged, something he once remembered coming up into conversation a long time ago. But this time it was really happening. You jumped up from your seat, being the first to congratulate Jess on the proposal. As the both of you giggled like a couple of school girls, you were firing questions to her about dates and details about the future wedding. Dean headed over to his brother, wanting to give nothing more than the wishes for a happy and long marriage.

“Congratulations, Sammy.” Dean said, his little brother mumbled a thank you as he shoved his hands inside his dress pocket. He could see you coming back after speaking to Jess, getting ready to say some personal words to the man, but you lingered behind to give them some time. What he said next made the younger man look at him twice. “I’m really glad you’re happy.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but everything around him seemed to have turned itself into static noise from what he saw across the room. Dean focused his attention on the same young girl he saw before in the campus parking lot. She wouldn’t stop staring at him.

Without thinking about the attention he would draw to himself, the man way his way through the crowd of people and waiters, trying to figure out why she was appearing. But when he managed to get close enough, she was gone again. Dean looked over his shoulder to see that everyone was staring at him, wondering what had gotten into the man.

\+ + +

You let out an involuntary yawn when you stepped inside the Winchester household again. Your feet were beginning to hurt from the heels and the wine you had earlier from tonight was making you feel relaxed. As much as you wanted to call it a night and spend the rest of the hours curled up on the couch, you knew in just a few short hours you’d be up almost until dawn between research and the endless paperwork that went with your job. You gave Dean a smile when he came into the doorway after his brother, hoping he was feeling a bit better. He’d been acting out since last night, and it was beginning to worry you.

You took a few steps forward until you were standing next to him again. You linked arms with him, allowing the both of you a bit of privacy in the living room. “So, Dean, what was all that back at the restaurant?” You asked him, glancing up at him to hear the answer.

“Oh, I thought I saw someone.” He said. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Nodding your head, you focused your attention on the woman of the night. She seemed to have been glowing with happiness, but you could tell she was worn out from the events. “Well, I had a lovely birthday. But I’m beat.” She said. “Good night.”

“Yeah, well, I’m beat. Ready to turn in?” Sam focused his attention on his new fiancee, he gave her a smile as he took a step forward to her. Nodding her head, she and him began to walk in sync to the door. “Night, guys.”

“Wait a second. Wait a second.” Dean jumped into the conversation, drawing all eyes upon him, wondering what he had in mind. “Come on. It’s not even nine yet. Let’s go have a drink or something.”

Sam nodded his head, “Yeah, maybe another time.”

“Come on, man. Look at us, huh?” Dean seemed to have been in a festive mood. You could feel Sam’s eyes jump toward you, wondering what had gotten into his brother. You shrugged your shoulders. “We both have beautiful women on our arms. You’re engaged. Let’s go celebrate.”

“Guys, can you excuse us? I want to talk to my brother for a sec.” Sam said. You wondering what this was all about, but you nodded your head. You and Jess went into the other room, letting the two men have a word together. You didn’t know why, but the situation threw you off as odd.

\+ + +

“Why did you fall in love with me?”

Dressed in one of his old shirts again, you let out a hiss of pain from the boiling hot water that jumps out from your mug and burns your leg. Before he could apologize a million times, you quickly shake your head and ask him to repeat himself. A bashful smile spreads across his lips. “What do you see in me that makes you stay?”

You furrow your eyebrows from his question, wondering what had gotten into him. He mumbles something about you being nothing but honest with him. You bite your bottom lip, deciding to play along, hoping that would explain why he was acting so strange.

“Well, let me see…” You mumbled, letting your attention linger on the countertop for a moment before focusing your gaze on him. Taking a step forward, you make it until you’re just a few inches from him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you decide to answer him with a honest truth. “You make me laugh. I think it’s cute of how polite you are to my parents. We’ve known one another since we were in diapers. You just feel..familiar to me, safe. And there was that time when I was sixteen, you eighteen.”

His green eyes seem to light up from the memory, you could see the end of his lips beginning to curl. He almost looks like he’s about to cry. "You were a senior in high school, remember? I was just an itty, bitty junior. We weren’t much then, just friends. But then something in you changed that day. You were wearing your father’s cologne and that hideous leather jacket of his you used to adore. You tried flirting with me, but you ended up acting like a complete fool.”

“And what happened after that?” He asked, like didn’t know the exact memory.

You could feel your cheeks beginning to blush from the thought, but you continue. “After school, I headed over to your house to speak about what happened. We started speaking on your porch steps and…You kissed me.” You glanced up at him, letting out a small laugh at the childlike twinkle in his eye when you continued with the story. “Of course, our moms were eavesdropping the entire time. They still tease us, but who cares? I’m happy. And everything’s just the way I want it. Why did you ask?”

“This isn’t gonna make a lick of sense to you. I don’t know. Maybe it will.” Dean said, he shrugged his shoulders. You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “But I kind of feel like I’ve been given a second chance. And I don’t want to waste it.”

"When have you gotten so philosophical? I mean, I don’t mind it, but—” You were starting a sentence, but you feel his lips suddenly crash onto yours after he cups the back of your head. You let yourself sink deep into the kiss, enjoying how romantic he was being. It was like you were falling in love all over again. After a moment of kissing, he pulls away, leaving you feeling breathless.

“You know, I get it.” Dean whispered. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Why you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

You let out a giggle before shaking your head from his affectionate behavior, “I would love to continue this conversation, Casanova. But can it wait till tomorrow? I have an article calling my name. And knowing Josh, he’s gonna be hounding me for a preview in his email by tomorrow morning.”

“…Josh?”

“Josh Carver, my boss? You met him a million times before between the Christmas parties and the rare moments he spots by to pick up my articles.” You say, walking down the hall and stepping into your office. Reaching out a hand, you flicked on the switch, allowing light to pour through the room. Dean lingered in the doorway as you gathered up everything you had on the bank robbery. "I’ve got to write one about a recent robbery. It went…strange.”

“Right. I’m married to a journalist. And Josh is your boss.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He shook his head, as if he should’ve seen this coming. “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree, doesn’t it?” You looked over your shoulder, wondering what he meant by that comment. But all he does is walk over and give you another kiss on the lips before leaving you alone to your thirteen victims that were killed by a man named Ronald Resnick. 

\+ + +

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he could kick his feet up on the coffee table and enjoy the silence with his favorite beer in hand, with several more to down. He flicked through a few of the channels that didn’t seem interesting enough to keep his attention enough for the time being. As he stumbled away from an old cartoon, his attention was suddenly glued to the screen from what the reporter was talking about. 

“And today marks the anniversary of the crash of United Britannia Flight 424. Indianapolis residents held a candlelight vigil in memory of the one hundred and eight passengers and crew who lost their lives.” 

“Oh, no. I stopped that crash.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He was now sitting up straight, not believing what he was hearing. But, what if this was true? The last words that you spoke to him, about a strange robbery you were writing about, crossed his mind. He glanced up to see a folder was sitting on the table. Out of curiosity, he snatched it over and ripped it open, letting all the clipped out articles spilling out on the coffee table. “All of the headlines made his skin crawl in discomfort. “Son of a bitch.”

Everything he had done, from the plane crash victims to the case of those children becoming sick because of that monster, continued on like nobody had stopped to help them. But his eyes sensed a pattern in the style of writing and the name written on the top. They were all written by you. All the articles from previous hunts the three of you had worked on were nothing more than just some sad story to read in the paper Or the type of investigation you and his brother would be curious to figure out what was going on. Dean could feel his fingertips slowly curl into a fist, the paper crunching from his grip.

She was there again.

Dean glanced up just at the right moment to see the young woman wandering around the halls, going directly to the bedroom. The man jumped up from the chair, quickly following behind to see where she was, but all he was greeted with was an empty room. He took a few steps forward until he was standing across from the closet door. Taking a moment, he swung open the door to reveal a sight that made him jump.

There were two decomposed skeletons, hanging off from the ceiling with their hands tied above their head. His focus lingered off for a moment to see the girl was lingering in the full length mirror. He quickly turned around to stare at her for the longest moment. But when he blinked, disappeared—everything was gone. As if nothing happened.

\+ + +

“Stephen King, one of the most beloved horror genre writers of this current time, had quoted something in which has stuck with me after skimming an author’s note from a book of short stories, “Take my hand Constant Reader and I’ll be happy to lead you back into the sunshine. I’m happy to go there because I believe most people are essentially good. I know that I am. It’s you I’m not entirely sure of.” Do you think you’re a good person? Of course, you do. What you choose to believe makes the world seem a little brighter, or perhaps, a little darker. Perhaps you think you can help save this world from evil. That was the case for Ronald Resnick, a man who heavily believed that he was only helpi—”

You stopped halfway through your sentence when you heard the sounds of heavy footsteps running across the hallway floors, making you jump away from the sounds of they keyboard clicking against your fingers. You couldn’t understand where the noises were coming from. Dean was sitting in the living room, enjoying a beer and watching some TV. He knew how much you needed silence to write. But when you heard the sound of someone slamming a door, you gritted your teeth in frustration, pushing away the laptop and got up from your chair. Heading to the door, you opened it slightly and peeked your head out, wondering what was going on outside. It was another moment before you heard someone swear rather quietly, but it was harsh enough to let it echo. 

“Babe?” You called out. There was another crashing sound before it was silence. You wrapped your fingers around the edges of the wooden door panel, making yourself peek down the hall to see what was going on. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw him on his knees with his back turned to you. All the good China and silverware you’ve gotten as wedding gifts were just lying carelessly on the floor. Suddenly you were overwhelmed with anger. “Dean, what the hell are you doing?”

The tone of your voice must have broke him from the concentration on whatever task that he was doing. You glanced over at the clock to see it was just after one, a little too late for cleaning and organizing. “Y/N,” He mumbled, pushing himself up to a standing position. “Quick question, do we have any silver…? Or do we know someone who does?”

“What kind of ques—yes, your mother.” You answered him, giving him a confused look. “Dean, what’s going on with you?“

"Look, I don’t have time to explain. And I’m sorry, but I have to do this.” He admitted. Your face scrunched up when he began to take a few steps forward to you, like he was afraid to approach, as if one touch and everything would disappear from sight. The way that he was talking was beginning to make you fear he was about to do something horrible. But before you could say anything else, you could feel his hands cup the back of your head and lean forward, softly pressing his lips against yours. You fumbled to clutch his flannel shirt, not wanting to leave the position, but your eyelids fluttered open after a moment when you could feel him back up.

“What are hell are you talking about?” You questioned the man.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Dean sounded like he was babbling nothing but nonsense to you. You watched as he didn’t give you a chance to talk some sense into him, grabbing the keys to the Impala, he walked straight for the front door, opening it and lingered in the doorway for the longest moment before saying three words you haven’t heard in a long time, “I love you.”

\+ + +

Dean sat in the front seat of the Impala, but it didn’t feel right to him, everything felt strange about this car. There was no evidence from his childhood that he knew of. No trunk full of weapons. No little brother and best friend to share the hours on the road with. Sure, he was married to his best friend, his better half. Everyone he once thought was dead were now happy and alive. And, for a moment, Dean thought that’s what he really wanted out of life. But there was something nagging at him. All those other lives that he saved, they were dead because all of you weren’t there to help them. God, how badly he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to turn around and forget about everything, return to a home that felt like his and explore things that felt exciting and new. But he couldn’t. The real person his father drilled inside his head was winning.

The deep thoughts were cut short when he heard the sound of the car door opening. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see two people he wasn’t expecting. Sam was slipping himself into the passenger side, and you were getting into the back. No matter what, it was like a pattern that couldn’t be broken. The both of you were still just as stubborn and protective as ever.

“Get out of the car.” Dean ordered, you just scoffed at him.

“We’re going with you.” Sam simply said.

“You’re just gonna slow me down.” Dean tried again, but it seemed that you were just staring at him with a dirty glare. Sam shrugged his shoulders with not much care. “This is dangerous, and either one of you could get hurt.”

“And so could you.” You said, in a matter of fact voice. He barely could say your name before you were at it, arguing with him just to make your point. Some things even he couldn’t change about your personality. “Look,whatever stupid thing you’re about to do, you’re not doing it alone, and that’s that.”

“I don’t understand.” Dean admitted. “Why are you doing this?”

You gave him a sort of look that he read as he should’ve already known the answer to that one. Sam let out a sigh, knowing neither one of them were close enough, but it meant they were family. And he was obligated to do this. “Because you’re still my brother.”

Dean nodded his head, wondering if they still shared that special bond. “Bitch.”

But the younger man gave him a confused look, “W-What are you calling me a bitch for?”

“You’re supposed to say ‘jerk’ and then she’s supposed to go 'idiots.’” Dean tried to explain the joke, but the both of you just stared at him like he’d grown a second head. He shook his head, turning on the engine. “Nevermind.”

Pressing his foot on the gas, he began driving off, a silence dropping between the three of you. Dean wondered if he could retrace his steps to somewhere that seemed familiar, maybe he could figure out where the creature he was hunting. Halfway through the drive, he could see from the corner of his eye a figure moving forward. Your arm reached over the seat, grabbing the crumpled paper bag out of curiosity. Your eyes flickered over to him for an answer.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

"Yeah, nothing.”

You rolled your eyes and decided to be a bit bold, starting to open up the bag. He tried warning you, but his tone of voice was nothing short of calm, knowing things were about to get weird. You threw the paper bag to the front seat and lifted up the plastic container. But your eyes widened in surprise from what you were holding. You questioned him of what was inside the plastic tupperware. Dean calmly explained it was blood. Your face dropped in panic, acting like a woman who discovered her husband was a serial killer and you were his next victim.

“Yeah, we can see that it’s blood.” You hissed. “But what the hell is it doing here?”

“You don’t really want to know.” Dean said, you narrowed your eyes at him. It was the type of look that he knew too well. “Well, you’re gonna find out sooner or later. I needed a silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood.” Sam repeated him turning it into a question before ending it why. Here comes the real kicker. “Because there’s this creature, a jinn, and I have to hunt it.”

“Okay, um, stop the car.” Sam mumbled, Dean tried defending himself, knowing how strange it sounded for the both of you. “Great. Just stop the car.”

“It’s the truth, guys.” Dean explained. “There are things out there in the dark. There are bad things. There are nightmares. Y/N writes about events that are caused by it. I know because this is all some reverse effect. And I know people have to be saved, and if we don’t save them, nobody will.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but all that fell out was a pitiful laugh, you were acting as if words couldn’t describe what you were hearing at the moment. “We want to help you, Dean. We really, really do.” Sam said, being the one for reason. “But you’re having some kind of psychotic breakdown, so I just—” He took out his cell phone and began to typing in a number. Dean rolled down his window and snatched the phone away before the younger man could realize what was happening until he was just staring at his hands. “What the hell was that, Dean? That was my phone.”

“I’m not going to a rubber room, Sammy,” Dean said. “and we got work to do.”

“I was just trying to help you out, Dean. I don’t want you to get yourself hurt.” Sam said, trying to defend his actions. The older man couldn’t help himself but laugh, knowing this version of his little brother was nothing more than a whimp. He wondered if you could take him down better than this man.

“You protect me? Oh, that’s hilarious.” Dean mumbled, cracking the smallest smile before focusing his attention back on the road. The three of you still had a long way to go, and he didn’t exactly want to spend it arguing. “Why don’t you two just sit tight and try not to get all of us killed?” Reaching over, he didn’t let either one of you say another word as he turned on the radio, letting the music being the perfect setting.

The familiar sense of driving around with you and his little brother made him feel at ease again for a while. The signs of intersections and passing states became a blur until he pulled into the exact same place where he remembered perfectly. It was where all of this mess started. He turned off the car and glanced over, seeing you and his brother passed out made a small smile spread across his lips. He turned around in his seat and softly placed a hand on your shoulder, shaking you around until your eyelids fluttered open, wondering what was going on. Dean grabbed the flashlight from the middle seat and turned it on, shining the light on his brother until the man jolted awake.

Sam managed to get the shock and sleep out of his system, he glanced around the abandoned building to see all of you were in an unfamiliar territories. “Where are we?”

“Well, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Dean cracked a joke, letting out a small chuckle fo. “Illinois.”

“And you think there’s something in there?” You asked.

“I know it is.”

You and Sam gave one another concerned looks, but Dean wasn’t going to waste anymore time on this. He got out of the car with the bag and knife tugged into his jacket, and sure enough, the sounds of footsteps trailing behind were heard just a moment later. All of you walked inside the abandoned building, Dean was feeling a sense of déjà vu from the sights that passed him by. But as he got deeper, he knew the both of you weren’t still on board with everything that was going on right now. It was like some cheesy horror movie where you walk into an abandoned building, but nobody was going to make it out alive.

“Okay. There’s nothing here, Dean.” You said, trying to the voice of reason. But he blocked you out, knowing there was something lurking in the shadows, and he was going to find it. “Look, Jess has got to be worried about Sam. And your mom is probably awake by now. Come on. Let’s just go.” Dean shushed you, knowing you were growing more tiresome. You opened your mouth to scold him, but the sound of a high pitched whimper stopped you in your tracks. “What the hell was that?”

“Stick behind me and keep your mouths shut.” Dean ordered for the both of you.

Neither one of you seemed to have shown a complaint about that when all of you began walking again, deeper into the wreckage. It took a moment before Dean stumbled on something that seemed so familiar to him. A pair of bodies hung from a pipe; they must have been there long enough to become nothing more than decomposed bodies. His attention lingered for a moment on an IV bag that seems to have been once filled with something, but it was hard to tell from the filth that caked the coating of the bag. He could hear his brother say something, but his attention lingered toward a face that’s been haunting him.

Dean began to take small steps to the young woman he had been seeing all over town. She was dirty and covered in blood, her eyelids were parted halfway open as she hung above. “It’s her.” He said, to what felt like himself. His eyelids flickered over to the same IV, but it was filed with blood. Whatever was doing this, it must have been draining her dry. Sam opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but he shushed the younger man to keep everything quiet when a shadow began to dance across the wall. Someone was coming, and fast.

The three of you managed to find safety hiding behind a fence, blocking out any potential of being seen as you crouched down. Dean peeked his head out just enough to see the jinn appear; he was almost human looking, from from the artwork that was spread across his body that made it clearly known it was another monster, as if what happened next didn’t prove it farther. The jinn walked toward the girl, seeming to have his attention on other things, ignoring her whimpers that neither one of you could hear from a distance. But it didn’t last very long before he touched her cheek, saying something so she was passed out again.

What happened next made Dean’s skin crawl in discomfort. The jinn eyed the IV bag full of blood, taking the slender tube that was running from the girl’s body and placed it over his mouth, allowing the droplets of blood fall onto his tongue, savoring the taste. You were staring at the sight with horror, not knowing you had made a noise until it was muffled when Dean quickly pressed a hand against your mouth, hoping it would be enough. But to his dismay, the jinn turned his head, giving all of you precious moments to drop into a crouch. Dean ordered everyone to find another hiding spot behind the stairs, knowing something would happen if being caught. Luckily, all of you made it safely just in time when the jinn popped his head into the old spot.

It was a moment before Dean watched as the jinn decided it was safe enough to leave again, heading up the staircase all of you were hiding behind, stomping upwards until he slammed the door shut, allowing you to let out a breath you must have been holding in since being caught. “This is real?” Sam asked, his tone of voice was shaky. “You’re not crazy?”

“She didn’t know where she was. She thought she was with her father.” Dean mumbled. He started talking to himself, knowing there was something strange going on here. He got out from the hiding spot and began to head to the woman, you and Sam trailing behind. He stared at the girl. It was all making sense now. Suddenly he could feel his heart sink. “What if that’s what the jinn does? It doesn’t grant you a wish. It just makes you think it has.”

“Look, Dean, that thing could come back, alright?” You whispered, tugging at his jacket sleeve like an afraid child. But he didn’t seem to register your presence. He looked over his shoulder, taking a few steps until he was in the middle of the room. “Dean, please.”

“What if I’m like her? What if I’m tied up in here someplace? What if this is all in my head?” Dean was thinking out loud, wondering if that explained what was going on. He nervously swallowed, turning back around to the girl as he took a few steps forward to her again. “Maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid and then it just feeds on us slow.”

Suddenly he turned around to come in contact with you. LIke a little voice in his head, you were there to deny whatever he thought was going wrong. “No, Dean, that doesn’t make sense, okay?”

“What if that’s why she keeps appearing to me? She’s not a spirit. It’s like more and more I’m catching flashes of reality,“ Dean mumbled to himself, finding himself pacing around the room when he continued. "You know, like I’m in here somewhere, I’m catatonic, and I’m taking all of this stuff in, but I can’t snap out of it.”

“Okay. Look, Yeah, you’re right. We were wrong.” Sam said, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, dragging him to the staircase. “You’re not crazy, but we need to get out of here fast.

Before Dean could allow his brother to take control, he quickly yanked his arm away. Sam looked confused at what was going on, you stood there with a worried expression. "I don’t think either one of you are real.”

It seemed you weren't’ scared of what was going on right now, stepping out from Sam’s towering body and headed over to him, placing both hands on his arms. “Do you feel that?” You asked, shaking his body hard as you could. “Do you feel this, Dean? I’m real. This this not an acid trip. I’m real, and that thing is gonna come down here and kill us for real. Please, Dean.”

“There’s one way to be sure.” Dean mumbled. Before you realize what was happening, your eyes widened from the knife that he pulled out, slowly backing away as you questioned what he was doing. “It’s an old wives’ tale. If you’re about to die in a dream, you’ll wake up.”

“No, no, no. That’s crazy, all right.” Sam said, trying to the voice of reason here. Dean shrugged his shoulders, knowing all of this was all some mindtrick. “You’re gonna kill yours—”

“Or I’m gonna wake up.” Dean cut his brother, wielding out the knife farther for protection from the both of you. “One or the other.” 

“Look, this isn’t a dream, all right?” You were next at trying to persuade the man. “I’m here with you now, and you’re about to kill yourself, Dean.”

Just as Dean flipped around the knife to take the plunge, he immediately stopped in his tracks when he heard you scream out something. Everything after that seemed to have been working in slow motion. You and Sam were staring at him with disappointment, but he turned his head to see someone familiar, his mother. She looked exactly like the night she passed away. And from the corner of his eye, he could see Jess coming forward. Guilt began to creep inside his stomach.

“Why did you have to keep digging?” You asked the man. He could sense the anger in your voice, knowing very well everything was just the way it should have been. “Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone? You were happy. I was happy, too. ”

"Put the knife down, honey.” His mother spoke softly, stepping in front of the man.

“You’re not real.” Dean whispered. “None of it is.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s still better than anything you had.” Mary said. He stared at her for a moment, wondering what she meant by that. “It’s everything you want. We’re a family again. Let’s go home.”

“I’ll die.” Dean mumbled. “The jinn will drain the life out of me in a couple of days.”

"But in here, with us, it’ll feel like years, like a lifetime.” Mary said, trying to persuade the man. He glanced over at you and his brother, which in return you gave him a warm smile. “No more pain, no more fear. Just love and comfort and safety. Dean, stay with us. Get some rest.”

“You don’t have to worry about Sam anymore.” Jess was the next person to speak, trying to use all of his thoughts and regrets into guilting him to keep himself buried here. “You get to watch him live a full life.”

But he knew the worst was about to come when he watched as you took a few steps forward, walking until you were just a foot away from him. You stood up on your tippy toes and pressed your lips against his, letting him feel safe and comfortable in your embrace. He wanted this, why couldn’t he let himself stay. Because, deep down, this wasn’t meant to be “Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven’t we done enough? All the work we do, and all of it ends in pain. Death of loved ones.“ You said, trying to convince him. Before he realized what you were doing, you grabbed a hold of his wrist, lifting it up so he could press it against his stomach. "We could start a real family, Dean. You could see what life’s really like. Protect me in the only way you know how.”

Dean softly yanked himself away from your grip, shaking his head as he tried to brush off the looks everyone was giving him. It would have been so much easier to stay here, live out the remaining days of his life without much suffering. "Dean? Dean!” But there were two people back at home that needed his help more than this. Before he could think twice about stopping himself, he roughly stabbed himself in the stomach, letting the pain take over his body until the shouts of his name were no longer fuzzy. They rang inside his ears, making him realize what was going on.

\+ + +

In the back of your mind something was wrong, you and his little brother were searching almost all night, wondering where he ended up. Dean wasn’t the type of man that didn’t answer his phone after almost a dozen calls that went straight to voicemail. There was a gnawing feeling that wouldn’t leave your mind since the call ended just a few hours ago. When the oldest brother didn’t show up, you and Sam knew something had gone wrong. The both of you searched almost all of the empty buildings that you told Dean about, tearing the place apart until, by some streak of luck, you’d spotted the Impala just sitting in an empty parking lot outside of some abandoned warehouse. As the both of you split up to wonder where he could be, you stumbled upon a few disturbing details until you found him.

“Dean? Dean!” You were nearly screaming on the top of your lungs, loud enough to let it echo, hopefully giving the younger man enough of a signal to know what was going on. You nervously swallowed when you saw the man with his hands tied above his head, some sort of IV was hooked to his body, draining him clean of blood. All the color in his face was gone, giving him a sickly pale color that wasn’t leaving you with much confidence. You tried shaking him, whispering his name again, hoping that you could get any sort of response. “Dammit, don’t you do this to me Dean. You have to wake up.”

There seemed to have been a long pause of silence that was making almost any sort of noise that passed almost impossible to hear from your pounding heartbeat with the rush of anxiety that flooded through your body. But the sounds of a hurtful moan rang inside your ears, letting you know Dean was at at least alive, coming back to consciousness as he bounced back to his normal self, despite all of the blood loss. "Auntie Em. There’s no place like home.” Dean mumbled, his lips slowly twitching into a small smile from the sight of your panicked face.

You could feel yourself breaking out into a grin from his sarcasm, you placed both hands on his cheeks and lifted up his head so be was looking at you. “Thank, God. I thought I lost you for a second.” You whispered, but your eyes flickered down to the needle that was still punctured in his neck. “Oh, this is gonna hurt. Keep still. Okay?” You apologized underneath your breath a few times as you dragged the sharp tip of the IV out of his neck, letting the tube fall to the floor. When that was done, you reached a hand inside your pocket, pulling out the knife you’d been carrying around to get him out of these bounds. Reaching up a hand, you began to cut part of the rope. “Let’s get you down.”

You stood on your toes, trying your hardest to figure out how to balance a man that was twice your size all while keeping out for a monster that could still be around. It seemed that you had been so caught up in cutting the last of the rope, you didn’t seem to notice that danger lurked closer than you thought. Just as you were at the end of getting the rope loose, you quickly whipped your head to the side when you heard Dean yelling out your name in a warning tone, making you see that the jinn was home early, and he wasn’t particularly happy you were messing with his food.

Before you could become his next target, you whipped the knife at him, knowing the tip was covered in lamb’s blood, the exact thing that you needed to kill him. He was faster than you thought, dodging the attack, so you tried again, going for his stomach as a way to slow him down. The only thing that happened next was you being grabbed ahold by the wrist by the jinn. You tried your hardest to to use all the strength you had in your body to fight back, but he flung you into a metal fence, making you accidentally drop the knife to the floor. It seemed that you could have had a winning chance when the jinn took a step back, making you try and reach for the knife. All though, that ended in him roughly pinning his hand around your neck and dragging you to the flight of stairs for what he had planned next.

You clawed your nails into his skin with a terrible force, but your breathing that was being cut off was beginning to make things become more of a challenge. You wondered where the hell Sam was, knowing things were about to get worse. One of the ways jinns subdued their targets was by placing them under some sort of sleeping spell. Slowly drained their victims over the course of days, leaving them in some sort of dream state, showing them a peaceful life before they died from blood loss and dehydration. When you saw his slowly lift itself up to you, knowing from the grip that was tightening around your neck, this was the part where he most enjoyed the most, going in for the first part of this kill.

You tried your hardest to focus all of your remaining energy on getting him off before it could get worse. You squeezes your eyes shut from the feeling of blackness that was making the idea of passing out from the lack of oxygen. But you suddenly heard the distant sound of rope snapping echo from your pounding heartbeat. Your eyelids jumped open again at the perfect moment to see what happened next. It seemed that Dean was quick at getting himself back into hunter mode, despite the blood loss. He managed to free himself from the binds and grabbed the knife from the floor, stabbing the jinn right in the backside. The jinn loosened his grip on you before he stumbled to a standing position for a moment before you was as the light in his eyes faded away and fell down to the concrete ground with a thud.

It took you a moment to catch your breath from what had just unfolded in a blink of an eye. You glanced away from the dead body to see Dean; he was tired looking and weak, the obvious evidence from the dark circles and pale coloring that stained his skin. You quickly stumbled up from the stairs, ignoring the throbbing headache that was forming after you bumped your head, knowing you would have worse problems if Dean was about to pass out again from the sudden rush of adrenaline. You began mumbling things, wrapping an arm around his waist as you tried your hardest to steady him. But it ended up feeling like a bad idea from the amount of weight he put on your body. You barely could make it a few steps until your knees felt like they were going to buckle underneath his weight.

“Sam! Little help here!”

\+ + +

It seemed you understood what was causing Sam’s distractions from before. You wandered down the halls of the empty warehouse, seeing evidence of different bodies that were hung around the place. It must have been going on for a while when you stumbled across two decomposed bodies that were drained of all blood. You let out a small sigh, suddenly wishing you could have stumble on this hunt sooner. All of you might haved saved a lot more people from this brutal ending. But as you glanced over your shoulder, you took notice in a young girl that seemed to have been in her teens. You turned around and began to walk to her, seeming to notice that Dean was focusing almost all of his attention on her, like he’d seen her before.

Out of curiosity, Dean reached out a hand and pressed two fingers against her neck. You could see she’s been here a while from the near gray coloring of her skin, almost nothing could have been left inside of her body. But something was keeping her here. “She’s still alive.” Dean muttered. Sam stepped forward and reached up the knife to the rope, cutting away until you heard it snap, allowing the girl to be free. Dean was quick to cradle the girl’s fragile body, whispering that everything was going to be okay. You glanced over at Sam with worry, wondering what really had happened to the man during his time here.

\+ + +

Ten Years Ago:

“Did it hurt?” She turned around in her seat, twisting her head just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her face from the side. It seemed she didn’t know that he was talking to her, so he leaned over, knowing it was always the fun to see where this went. This was one of the small things about hunting that he enjoyed. A new town, new faces that he could get to discover without much a care to see where it lead. was currently wasting time in some cafeteria lunch room, eyeing a group of juniors that were huddled together. One of them in particular had caught his eye, there was something about her that he couldn’t stop thinking about. She glanced over at her giggling friend before focusing her eyes on him, wondering what he was going to say next. “When you fell from Heaven, sweetheart?”

The girl raised her eyebrows at the question, her lips stretching into a sort of smirk that made it seem like she was amused from his attempts of flirting with such an abused line. But all of her friends were gawking and giggling, wondering what was going to happen next. Dean glanced down at her open textbook and piles of homework that surrounded her, even a test booklet for the SATS was close by. Most of everything else on the table was magazines and junk food they called a second meal of the day. Her giggling friend leaned over, whispering something in her ear quickly, probably some sort of response that they thought would be a good comeback.

“Did it hurt when they kicked you out of Hell for using such a bad line?” The girl replied back. It was radio silence after that. All the girls were staring at her like she’d grown a second head between her eyebrows. Even her giggling friend finally piped up from what she said. It seemed their nerdy, quiet friend had a voice that she’d been hiding from them, after all. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No.” Dean tried saving himself, brushing off the girl’s curious glances he was giving him. He averted his eyes on something for a moment before his charm came back again for what he said next. “I just think straight while in the presence of such a pretty lady.“

He could see the girl was trying her hardest not to crack the small smile from what he had said next. She licked her lips for a moment as she glanced down at his leather jacket with a bit of curiosity. It was like she had seen something like it before. Her eyes widened a bit as they glazed over with familiarity. But she pretended nothing had happened when the bell rang, signaling the sea of students that it was time to go. "Goodbye, Dean.” That line had to have been whispered to him half a dozen times as the junior girls picked up their belongings and passed him by. There was always something about being the new student that drove chicks crazy.

“Dean?” She repeated his name. The tone of her voice was soft and low, seeming to be acting like it was some kind of strange new word she wouldn’t mind repeating over and over again. Well, for him, at least. Her eyes glanced at his jacket again, all before she began to shuffle around her books into a neat pile. “Like the actor, James Dean? Let me guess, you have a car named little Bastard to match this little rebel without a cause look.”

“Oh, please. This isn’t some—”

“Mhmm.” She hummed, giving him a type of look that made him suddenly not sure what they were talking about. “Look, buddy, you’ve been at this school almost a week now. I’m just a junior and you’re supposed to be the big new senior. I’ve seen you go through girls like tissues. If you want an easy target why not try someone else that’s on your…level?”

“What if I said I like a good challenge?” He asked her. There was something about her stubbornness that seemed familiar to him. It almost made him feel something back to his childhood lifestyle he’d tried to shed.

“Are you free this period?” She asked him, he nodded his head. That was a lie. He should have been heading to History, but who needs all that crap. “Good. Meet me in the courtyard in five minutes. We’ll skip together.”

\+ + +

Today had been a good day. Dean followed behind his little brother into the motel room with the look on his face that wasn’t seen very often. Part of him was excited to be going back to school tomorrow so he could see her. She wasn’t just a pretty face, there was something else about her that made him feel good. The both of them spent one of their classes away from school, lying to any teachers that passed by saying they were studying for finals. It seemed easy for him, but he was surprised at how natural it came off for her. “My mom bugs me about studying. It’s not that different, I guess.”

“What are you so happy about?” Sam’s voice brought him out of his deep thoughts. His little brother was still young, around fourteen, but he was now at the age where he was forced to be attending high school. Dean wanted to groan from the thought that crossed his mind. Of course his brother would see him. “Is it because of that girl you’ve been hanging around at school today when you should have been in History?”

“Why don’t you shout it a little louder so Dad can hear you.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, knowing the man wouldn’t be exactly happy he was skipping class. He had just turned eighteen, but his father thought sticking out just another couple of months would have been good enough before joining the hunting lifestyle. As he glanced around the room, he noticed the older man wasn’t around in sight. “Where’s Dad, anyway?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “The note on the fridge said he was out on a supply run. Should be back in the next hour, I guess.”

The both of them seemed to have gone their separate ways after speaking. Sam found silence in completing a few assignments that were given during the classes. Dean viewed it as a waste of his time. He wandered around the motel room to see there was anything to keep him preoccupied until his father got back. While looming around the room, Dean noticed something that was strange about one of the many cell phones that were kept around. He walked over to the nightstand and saw that one of them was blinking, notifying someone that there was a new voicemail. Dean waited a moment to see if he could hear the sound of the familiar roars of the engine outside, but there was silence. He snatched the phone up and listened to the message.

“You have one new message sent today at, 6:40 A.M.” Dean listened to the automatic voice come through, all before he was greeted with a female voice that sounded terrified, but she was trying her hardest to remain calm as she could through it all.

“J-John? It’s me, Ella Y/L/N. It’s been years, hasn’t it? I wish I was calling on better terms. But better late than never, right?” There was a weak laugh coming from the other end, all before it turn into a choked sob. “God, please. I’m so sorry for what I did. I know tearing Y/N and the boys apart was a terrible mistake. I know Mary would have wanted everyone to keep together. But after Andrew’s death, I was so scared and angry. I thought I was doing the right thing for Y/N by running. But I know he’s back. I can feel it. He’s coming for her, John. I need your he—”

The line went dead after that. Dean pressed the end button, just in time for the motel door to swing wide open and came walking in their father, acting like he’d had a wonderful day himself. But from what Dean had just heard, things were about to become a hell of alot worse. He knew why she seemed so familiar. It was Y/N, the one girl from his childhood he’d known since birth before she moved away. Right in the same town they were staying at. He remembered a little bit about Ella from the questions he asked his father when he was younger. She was a fellow hunter that retired soon after falling pregnant with her only daughter, his best friend.

"Dad,” Dean managed to find his voice, putting his arm out in front of his body for the man to grab the phone. His father gave him a concerned look, wondering what had gotten over his son. “I think you should listen to this.”

\+ + +

It’s funny how the mind can remember little details about life. He remembers the last morning spent together before she moved to this new state. How sad she was about leaving everyone. He promised her, being six years old, that he would never let anything bad happen to her. They said would always find a way to find each other again. But not like this.

Dean could smell the sulfur in the air, it made his stomach feel queasy to know a demon was in here. Probably long gone by now, but they still needed to be safe.

He could hear the conversation during school today run through his mind as the three of them split up, checking every room of the household to see where Ella or her daughter could be. After being apart for twelve years, this is how they were going to meet again. Dean walked quietly up the staircase, knowing his father had drilled the art of being quiet right into his head. But the problem about old houses was that the foundation was weak, the slightest amount of pressure on a weak spot could give himself away just in a heartbeat.

He crept through the halls without much of a problem, making sure to check every room before moving on to the next one. When he caught sight of the bedroom at the end of the hall, the door was cracked open the slightest. He furrowed his eyebrows and quietly began to head there. Placing a hand on the wood, he softly pushed open the door, letting it swing open. The smell in the room was awful. It was like a mixture of sulfur and woman’s perfume he knew too well. His mother used to wear it for a while, she even got Ella a bottle for her birthday before passing. But the woman he once remembered was now lying on the floor, dead, and in a pool of her own blood.

Dean could hear the sounds of footsteps coming forward when he somehow managed to let everyone else know what was going on. He stepped farther into the room, his eyes never leaving the sight of Ella’s body. She looked like someone had viciously mauled her to death. But his eyes flickered down to the familiar face that was lying just a few feet from where he was standing. A sigh of relief escaped his lips when he examined her body to see that she was still at least breathing. Dean turned his head to the side when he saw his father approach the dead body. His facial expressions were written with nothing short of horror. In all of his years of hunting, there was nothing worse than seeing the sight of a loved one, dead.

He almost forgotten about his little brother until he was creeping behind him, wondering what was going on. Sam was trying to take everything in as quiet as he could. Dean tried explaining that this was an old family friend, someone that he probably wouldn’t remember. But from his facial expressions, it seemed he knew who she was. He watched his brother slowly walk to the girl without saying anything. Dean looked down to see her eyelids were beginning to move around a bit. He quickly stumbled to the ground and tried his hardest to block the sight of her mother. It was a moment before her eyes popped open, showing off the shade of Y/E/C that had been making him go crazy all day. But all he was feeling was guilt now. 

“W—Wh-What are you doing here?” She managed to speak, finding her voice from the flashes of reality that were beginning to settle in. She pushed herself up for a moment, examining the brothers for the longest time. First it was confusion. Now the fear settled in when she realized what she saw. “What’s going on? Who are you?”

“Y/N, it’s me.” Dean tried to calm her down, hoping the stress on the end part of his sentence would make it clear who they really were. Her eyes examined the brothers for the longest time before she looked at their father. It took a moment before her face scrunched up and her mouth dropped open. She remembered. “Hey, it’s gonna be—”

“My mom. Where’s my mom?” She nearly barked at the men. Dean barely could keep her in place before she was leaning over, catching sight of the limp hand that was covered blood. Her mouth fell open, almost like she was going to scream, but nothing came out. Slowly, she glanced over at the brothers with watering eyes. “Sammy and Dean. Is that really you?”

Barely managing to nod their heads, he knew the next thing that came out of her mouth was going to be a terrified scream. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around her tiny body, feeling it shake and tremble from all the foreign events that were happening at once. She dug her nails into his jacket when she looked at her mother’s body, a muffled yell ripped from her throat when reality set in.

\+ + +

It had been a few days since you and Sam had found Dean again. All of you wanted to spend a few extra days in town to give the man some time to rest before getting back on the road. The girl that you’d found was in stable condition, with high hopes that she was going to make a full recovery, but the next step was trying to identify her so she could make it back home safe. You should have been filled with nothing but relief. But there was something off about Dean that was making you grow more offended. He wasn’t talking to you, he barely could make eye contact with you when you were in the same room. You were trying to be nice, but all of you were getting ready to get move out again. Whatever issues he was dealing with needed to be addressed soon.

You stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your head to make your damp hair dry a bit faster. You were so caught up in getting the buttons of your jeans done, you didn’t seem to notice that someone was sitting on your bed. A scream of surprise nearly ripped itself from your throat, but you managed to calm yourself down when you realized the intruder was just Dean. He was scrolling through your computer, acting as if he was casually hanging around like normal. You called out his name, but he acted like it didn’t register in your mind. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and walked over, looming over his shoulder to see what he was staring at.

Dean was going through some of the photographs you’d loaded up to your computer that ranged from childhood photos to a couple rare ones that were taken after your mother’s passing. The one that was keeping Dean’s attention the most was one of you two; it was taken right after your high school graduation. You were smiling for the first time in months, Dean was at your side as he kissed you on the cheek. The picture caused you to remember that day, how the brothers traveled just for that special day. You let out a quiet sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed with him, knowing it was time to see what was bothering him so badly.

“Are you alright?” You asked him.

“Yeah, I’m all right.” Dean admitted, shutting the laptop and placing it right next to him. He was quiet for a moment or, making you wonder if this was going to be the last of conversation was going to have with you. But before you could push for more, all of it was coming out. “You should have seen it, Y/N. Our lives. Sam was such a wussy.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a small laugh, feeling it was quite hard to see the younger man anything short of sarcastic and bold, even on his worst days. Sam had mentioned his brother admitted a bit of the dream to you, saying they didn’t get along, like a typical sibling relationship. It was so strange to think they didn’t hold the bond like now. "I don’t get it. I thought it was supposed to be this perfect fantasy.”

"I thought it was supposed to be. But it wasn’t. It was just a wish.” Dean admitted. You stared at him, wondering what he wasn’t telling you. “I wish for my Mom to live. I wish you had a normal life, your parents were alive. I thought things were perfect. But, guess not.”

“I’m glad you dug yourself, Dean.” You whispered. His eyes glanced down at the floor for a second when you continued speaking. “Most people wouldn’t have had the strength. They would’ve stayed.”

“Yeah, lucky me.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, pushing himself off the bed as he trailed to the other side of the room. “I got to tell you, though, Y/N—Sam had Jess. You had a normal life. A bright future ahead of you with your parents.”

The idea was crippling sadness to know that none of it was going to be a possibility, but you couldn’t change the past. No matter what you were willing to do. Somethings were just meant to happen. “Yeah, but, Dean, it wasn’t real.”

“I know. But I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay so bad.” Dean admitted, his voice dropping to a lower tone. “I mean, ever since your mom died, and with Dad, all I can think about is how much this job’s cost us. We’ve lost so much. And we’ve sacrificed so much.”

“Life’s not fair. It’s a real freaking bitch that keeps pushing you down. But, you know, it’s worth it.” You said, standing up from the bed when he let out a bitter chuckle. “Dean, look, you need to realize that it’s okay to feel weak. That’s when you realize how strong you’ve been. I don’t know what Sam and I would have done without you. We’ve been through so many goddamn awful things. But you know what keeps me going?”

Dean glanced up from the ground, "What?”

“Someone once told me this little motto. He thought it was appropriate to continue on what his father was doing, even when he was still alive. How did it go, again? Wasn’t it—saving people, hunting things? The family business. Just because they’re gone, Dean, doesn’t mean we should stop their work.”


	21. All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. One.

You sat in the backseat of the Impala with nightfall in full swing, you glanced out the window to see the sky had cleared up from the previous rainfall to show off a blackened scape of stars and a bright full moon. The day’s drive seemed to have been nothing but a sight of dusty back roads and trees. You were more excited than anything to see a cute, little diner in your sight to have a late food run before heading to another motel to crash for the next few days. While Dean pulled up the place that seemed almost abandoned, except for a red pick up truck, you glanced over to the window to see that there was a waitress and a man sitting in the booth. Any sort of human contact was better than the two brothers you’ve been dealing with for the past twelve hours.

A flash of green passed your eyes when you saw the shadow of Dean’s arm come directly into your sight. He had took out his wallet and fetched a twenty, knowing it was your turn to make the food run. You rolled your eyes, he knew you hated the task. Just as you reached to snatch the money away from him, he quickly pulled away. “Hey, don’t forget the extra onions this time, huh?”

“Dude, we’re the ones who’s gonna have to ride in the car with you with your extra onions. Come on, Y/N. I’ll join you. I gotta go to the bathroom, anyway.” Sam muttered with annoyance, snatching the money away from his brother. He reached to open up the passenger side door, deciding to tag along with you for company. Just as the both of you stepped out of the car, you leaned down when the oldest brother gave one more request.

“Hey, see if they got any pie.” Dean said, making his brother give the infamous bitch face. You rolled your eyes again and headed off into the direction of the entrance, Sam following behind soon after closing the car door. “Bring me some pie!”

You couldn’t stand the man’s obsession with the dessert, but if it kept him quiet you were willing to buy some that it would also cover up the stench of his onion breath for a while. You stepped inside the small diner to see that the place was almost empty except for an older waitress and the trucker like you saw from before. You walked to the counter with Sam heading for the restroom, leaving you alone to make the grueling task of ordering. The waitress gave you a warm smile, mumbling something about being a moment. You nodded your head and crossed your arms over your chest. As you took in a deep breath to smell the baked goods sitting in a glass case, you were overwhelmed with a stretch that caught you off guard. It was too familiar not to recognize.

You glanced over at the waitress again, only to see she was causally writing something down on a pad of paper. You slowly looked over your shoulder to see the trucker was sitting with his back turned to you, but as you glanced down, you saw something that was strange enough. A pool of blood was dripping on the floor, and he was acting like nothing was happening. You tried to pretend like everything was fine when you turned your attention back to the waitress. But out of pure curiosity, you glanced up at the circular reflection that was used for security reasons. What you saw caught you off guard. Two there were two cooks at the woman’s feet, with clothes soaked in a bloody red.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

You quickly were caught off guard from her voice, making you jump in fright. You almost thought it was your imagination acting out when you looked at the woman. But she was just standing there with a smile. A small laugh was about to escape your throat, but a gasp of terror was the only thing that came out when she blinked, making her eye color change. To your horror, the same shade of eyes that you’d grown to have nightmares were staring at you. Neon yellow eyes. The bastard found you.

Just as you heard the door from the back open, you knew it was Sam. You opened your mouth, trying your hardest to warn the youngest brother who was here, but no sound came out. Even when you tried to move you couldn’t. It was like your body was paralyzed with fear you couldn’t shake off. Nothing the both of you had been through was enough preparation for what was about to happen next.

\+ + +

Back outside, Dean leaned against the front seat as he reached out a hand to turn on the radio, blasting a familiar classic rock song with the freedom to not hear criticism from either one of you. He watched for a moment as you and his brother headed into the cafe. He turned his head away for a moment to stare at something in the distance before glancing back over at the window, seeing you again. But his eyes lingered away from the sight when he heard the radio beginning to act out. He reached up a hand to tap on the glass a few times, hoping that would do the trick. Baby wasn’t a young thing, she was going to act out from time to time.

His eyebrows furrowed when he saw the light flickering and the music continuing to come out only as static. It took his hunter side only a split second to realize what could have caused this. Dean quickly scanned the area to see if there was any lingering bodies that might have popped out for a surprise attack, but there was nobody around. When he turned his attention back to the window, the beating in his heart stopped for a moment when he realized the sight was different. You were gone. So was everyone. It didn’t take him long before he pushed open the driver’s side door, hoping his worst fear wasn’t about to come true. All of you had been so careful.

Dean raced to the diner, ripping open the door as he heard the familiar jingling of the bell echo through the eerily quiet restaurant that was playing some country music. It only took him a moment of stepping inside the place to see something was terribly wrong. There was only one customer that he could see sitting inside the resturant—face down with a pool of blood surrounding him. Taking that as he cue to take precaution, he took out his gun and slowly started to scope out the place for any sort of sign for you or his brother. -

“Y/N? Sam?” Dean called out. He took a few steps to the man and peered down, seeing there was a half eaten amount of food and a cup of coffee. But from the way the food looked with a few flies making a home out of it, he could only presume he was dead for a few days. But he didn’t stop there. You and Sam had to be around here somewhere.

He continued his way through the diner, checking every inch of the diner, wanting to see a trace of evidence to let him know you and Sam were okay. But as he passed the counter, he quickly glanced over for the quick sweep, but what he saw made him look twice in shock. Two men were lying on the floor with their throats slit clean and covered in their own blood. He could feel his breathing beginning to grow heavier, knowing this wasn’t making the hope stay alive much longer.

But Dean made himself explore further. He slowly walked to the back entrance of the diner and pushed open the back door. There was at least miles of empty woods that he saw ahead of him. With the rain beginning to fall down, that was the only thing he could see through the night that seemed to have only made things worse for him to see.

“Sam? Y/N?” He tried again, but no one called back. He scanned the area one more time before taking a step back, letting the door softly close behind him. As his fingers ran across the cold metal of the door, his skin brushed against a soft powder. He lifted up his head to see that it was almost yellowish. And from taking a quick sniff, he knew exactly what it was and who made it. “Sulfter.”

Demons. They always like to come out and play when all of you least expect it.

Dean could feel himself twisting around in his spot and racing back to the Impala, knowing there was something terrible happening. He rushed outside to the wet grounds with his boots sinking into the mud as he tried calling out his brother’s name again before nearly screaming your own. He nervously swallowed as he began to feel frantic now. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Sammy! Y/N!” He tried again, making sure to scan the empty area once more some sort of sign that there was something around beside him. “Y/N! Sam!”

Dean was now standing between the trunk and the Impala, knowing deep down he lost the both of you. He gritted his teeth in anger, all before making try one more time.

“Y/N!“

\+ + +

A migraine was one of the first sensations you were to notice when you rendered yourself back to consciousness. You could feel your body lying on a cold, hard surface when you began to figure out what was going on. You made yourself open your eyelids after a moment to reveal where you were. A sight of a worn down wooden ceiling with a few holes showed off a cloudy morning sky. You cranked your neck to the side to notice the abandoned looking tavern from the turned over furniture and broken objects that looked dated, all covered in a dusty grime. It didn’t take much thought to know you weren’t in the diner. And you were very much alone.

You forced yourself up into a sitting position, trying your hardest to think straight and battle the pounding headache that seemed to have gotten worse from the change. You reached down a hand to your pocket and pulled out your cell phone, hoping by some miracle that you were able to get service. But when you could feel your fingers poking at your thighs, you immediately knew something was wrong. You always put it there, and it was always on you. Out of habit, you reached down and pulled up your pant leg, seeming more happy to be left with at least something you could defend yourself with. Whoever, or whatever, put you here, it sure didn’t want you calling out for help. But it seemed they weren’t threatened enough to render you defenseless.

You knew there wasn’t a chance you were going to sit around in this dump and wait to figure out what was going on. You walked forward to the door and reached out a hand to place it on the cold doorknob, taking a quick look at the surrounding appearance of where you were from behind the foggy windows. As you stepped outside after opening the door, you felt like you’d just stepped into an abandoned western movie set from the outdated housing and dirt streets, that were now mud from the previous rainfall. You could feel a sense of dread fall over you when you glanced over at the area of the land, seeing there was no sign of another human around. You began to track your way through the town and think about the previous events that might have lead you here.

You were in that little diner, making a food run for you and the brothers last night. Everything seemed to have been normal, until—you sniffed the air a few times, almost expecting it to be different, but you could were only greeted with lingering traces of dust and moldy wood. Sulfur was one of the few things you remembered before waking up here in this ghost town. But you weren’t alone, that you knew for sure. Sam had came inside with you for a quick moment as you got ready to order from that waitress. But even from your memory, there was something about her that seemed off.

The sounds of wood groaning across from you brought you back to the reality of the situation. You quickly turned your head to the side to see that the noises were getting louder, and toward you. It didn’t take you a moment to think of a plan when you caught sight of a piece of broken wood that could have been perfect use for whatever was about to come near. You quieted your breathing and began to make your way closer to the noise, getting ready to attack whatever that was about to come forward. But who stepped forward wasn’t what you were expecting, causing a scream of surprise escape your throat when they jumped almost a foot in the air. You pressed a hand to your chest, trying your hardest to keep your heart from beating out of your chest.

“Andy? Andy freakin’ Gallagher?” You asked the man with shock.

You tried to calm yourself down when you realized the threat was just Andy, a psychic you and the brothers you’d met months ago. He was someone that could manipulate anyone into doing whatever they wanted. It almost worked on you, but you were easy to snap out of if when realizing what was going on. But his twin, whom all of you had discovered through a few strange trail of events, had been practicing more and nearly had you falling off a dam. But he was dead after he was shot by his brother. And you were standing right across from him, who looked like he’d just seen a ghost from the surprise that was spreading across his face. You wondered if he stopped breathing for a moment before he opened his mouth to say something before he passed out.

“Y/N.” He managed to say, all with the same amount of surprise in his voice. You could see it didn’t take him long to brush off the shock and begin panicking. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.”

“What am I doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are we?”

“Andy, listen to me.” You took a step forward and placed your hands on his shoulders, trying your hardest to keep the man standing still for a moment. “You need to calm down.”

"I can’t calm down.” He said, you could hear his voice rise a few pitches from what was happening to him. “I just woke up in freaking Frontierland.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” You asked, wondering if he knew any information that could tell you what was going on. You took a step back go give him some room to think.

Andy took in a few deep breaths as he placed his palms against his forehead. His answer made a small smile spread across your lips, knowing it wasn’t anything less than you expected him to be doing. “Honestly, my fourth bong load. It was weird. All of a sudden, there was this really intense smell, like a…” You knew exactly what it could have been, you remembered it too well.

“Like sulfur?” You finished for him.

“How did you know that?” Andy asked with surprise, you shrugged your shoulders and began thinking for a moment before you realized something. If Andy was here, that meant there was a chance the youngest brother could be around, too. But you didn’t seem to notice you mumbled out a name before the man repeated you. “Dean? Is—Is he here, too?”

“I don’t know where he is.” You mumbled to yourself, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with the thought that he could be dead. When you tried your hardest to think, you could feel the pounding inside your head becoming worse. You could feel your breathing becoming heavier as you nearly bent over in pain, catching yourself on the wall before you could topple over. Everything you could hear seemed to have turned into white noise for a moment before everything turned normal.

You forced yourself to take a few deep breaths and stand up straighter when the pain soothed itself to a minimum. As you glanced into the window of another abandoned building, you caught the reflection of yourself in a mirror that was hanging on the wall. You narrowed your eyes from the sight that caught your attention. As you leaned in closer, you could feel a gasp of surprise jumped from you at what you saw. You reached up a hand to rest on your upper cheek bone to confirm it it was real this time. But when you blinked again, the sight was gone was replaced with something else. You quickly turned your head to the side after catching sight of a man you’d been searching for all along.

"S-Sam? Wh—How did you find us?” You asked the man.

“I heard your voices coming from not too far.” He admitted, pointing to the direction from where he came from. “Thought I should have taken some precaution. But let me say, it’s pretty damn good to see you, Y/N. And…you too, Andy.”

You nodded your head and attempted to open your mouth for a response, but all that came out was something from the distance, making the three of you jump in fright. You listened closely to see that it was a woman’s scream coming not too far from where all of you were. It take much conceiving for all of you to follow where the noise was coming from, wondering if it could have been someone that was hurt or in danger. You tracked your shoes through the muddy grounds, listening as the screams and panicked words were getting more rushed. The noises were coming from a small, wooden shed that was locked from the outside. Whoever was inside was trying their hardest to break free, pounding on the door with all their might. 

“Okay, okay, I’m here.” Sam was the first one to approach the shed, trying his hardest to calm down the woman as he glanced over at the rusty padlock. “We’re gonna get you out, all right? Just hold on a second.” He examined the dead leaves and weeds to see there was a heavy stone lying underneath the brush. He brushed away all the debris and picked it up, hitting the lock a few times before you saw it bust free from the abuse. “All right, one second.”

Who you saw stumbling out after Sam opened up the door made you straighten up in shock. It was the same woman that went missing almost five months ago. “Ava?” Sam asked, seeming to have been sharing the same amount of confusion with you from who stood in front of him.

“Oh, my God! Sam!” She cried out. Ava jumped out of the shed and straight into his arms, wailing uncontrollably from the fear she must have been going through.

“So,” Andy spoke up, “I guess you guys know each other.”

You nodded your head, giving the woman a weak smile when she turned her head to look at the man before focusing her attention on you. Her eyebrows furrowed as a finger pointed at you, all before giving back her full attention to the man she was standing in front of. “How did you—I mean, how did—”

“Ava,” Sam said, trying to get the woman to focus. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“What whole time? I just woke up in there a half an hour ago.” Ava said, pointing a finger over her shoulder and at the small space. You couldn’t understand what was going on right now.

“Well, you’ve been gone for five months.” You said, bringing up the bad news that made her look at you like you were the crazy one. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Ava seemed to take the information from what you told her like a twisted joke. She couldn’t help herself but smile, taking a moment to correct you. "That’s impossible. ‘Cause I saw the both of you two days ago.”

“You didn’t.” Sam said. “I’m sorry.”

“But that makes no sense. It’s…not…” Ava trailed off, all before another thought hit her like a ton of bricks. You knew the moment was only going to lead for more bad news. “Oh, my god! My fiance, Brady. If I’ve been missing for that long, he must be freaking out!” During her moment of panic, her eyes slowly trailed over to the man you were standing next to, suddenly realizing it wasn’t just the three of you anymore.

“Andy,” He introduced himself with a weak wave. “Also freaking out.”

“Okay.” She muttered underneath her breath, all before focusing her attention on Sam. You could see that it was easy for her to throw around her emotions from confused to emotional all over again. “What’s happening?”

Sam seemed to have been caught off guard from that question as his mouth opened, but no sound seemed to have come out. “Uh, I think I can answer that one.” You said, letting the focus turned to you. “I might not know a lot, but I know one thing. I know what the three of you have in common.” You were caught off guard from your thoughts when someone, a male voice, called out from the near distance. “Maybe more than three.”

You and Sam exchanged looks before the both of you went off running into the direction of where the voice was coming from. Everyone else trailed behind, trying their hardest to keep up with the both of you. As you heard the voices beginning to grow louder, you took notice of another group of people that emerged from a corner. The first one was a male, dressed in a military uniform with a young woman trailing behind. You could tell from how she presented herself, from the crossed arms tightly and the hardened look, she was scared out of her mind just like everyone else here. 

“Hey, you guys all right?” Sam asked the both of them, the man nodded his head. You gave the new strangers a weak smile, knowing their curious glances were wondering who you were. “I’m Sam. This is Y/N.”

“I’m Jake.“ The uniformed man said.

"Lily.” The woman answered.

You couldn’t help yourself but lean to the side and examine the porch for a moment. “Are there any more of you?” You asked them. Jake confirmed your suspicions with a no, but your attention lingered over to Lily when she brought up a good question you wanted to know yourself.

“How did we ever get here?” She asked all of you. “A minute ago, I was in San Diego.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan.” Jake said. You looked at the man with surprise. Whoever was snatching all of you up sure as hell wasn’t intimidated about jumping over the pond to get what they wanted.

“Let me take a wild guess. You two are both twenty-three?” Sam asked the two. Neither one of them spoke to answer. “We all are—well, except Y/N. But I do know we all have abilities. It started a little over a year ago. You find you can do things you didn’t think were possible. I have visions. I see things before they happen.”

“Yeah, me too.” Ava admitted, her voice was low.

"And I can put thoughts into people’s heads—like, make them do stuff. Oh, but don’t worry. I don’t think it works on you guys.” Andy said. You knew the man was a pretty upbeat person, but this wasn’t exactly a moment for this. “Oh, but get this—um, I’ve been practicing, training my brain, like meditation, right? So now it’s not just thoughts I can beam out, but images, too—like anything I want. it’s like bam! People, they see it.” You press your hand against your mouth, trying your hardest not to interrupt him. But it was so tempting. “This one guy I know—total dick—I used it on him. Gay porn all hours of the day. It’s just like…You should have seen the look on his face.”

Andy seemed to have gotten a good laugh out of it, but everyone else was just staring at him. You gave the man a weak smile as he trailed away to a small corner to stand in. “You go, 'Simon Says give me your wallet,’ and they do? You have visions? That’s great. I’d kill for something like that.” Lily hissed at all of you. Sam tried to calm down the woman, but she lifted up her hand to explain what made her special. “I touch people. Their hearts stop. I can barely leave my house. My life’s not exactly improved. So screw you. I just want to go home.”

“And we don’t?” Jake questioned the woman.

Lily turned around and opened her mouth to yell at the man for the way he was speaking to her. Before you could let a fight break out, you were stepping in before something could happen. “Hey, guys, come on.” You said, bringing the both of them to snap out of an argument that wasn’t worth it. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I know one thing. Whether we like it or not, we’re all here. And so we all have to deal with this.”

“Who brought us here?” Andy asked the burning question. 

You glanced over at Sam, suddenly having a feeling of who was in charge of this mess. He said that he had plans for you, and all the children like him. Suddenly you could see his eyes before you passed out, it made a shiver run down your spine in fright. Like how it always did. This is what he had planned, all of the people he wanted, stranded in one place. “Less of a 'who’ and more of a 'what.’” 

“What does that mean?” Ava asked.

“It’s, uh…”

“It’s a demon.”

\+ + +

You and Sam tried your hardest to explain what was going on from past information and whatever rumors that seemed to have been flying around. It wasn’t easy to make four people believe in what was going on. Telling people that monsters were real was one thing, but letting them one they were one themselves was a whole other level that you had never experienced before. And from the reactions everyone seemed to have been showing it wasn’t going very well. You let out a sigh, trailing your attention to Jake, who was pacing around the porch ever so slowly. He was the first one to speak about the news. And he wasn’t believing a single word you were saying.

“So, we’re soldiers in a demon war to bring the apocalypse?” Jake questioned, you knew it sounded pretty bad from the way he was wording it. Hell, you were still having trouble believing what was going on. “And we’ve been picked? Why us?”

“I’m not sure, okay? But look, I just know—”

“Sam. I’m sorry.” Ava spoke up. “Psychics and spoon-bending is one thing, but demons?”

“Look, it sounds crazy.” Sam said, trying to get everyone on board. But it wasn’t working.

“It doesn’t just sound it.”

“You know what? I don’t really care to hear your opinions right now.” You ordered, putting your attention to Jake. “Look, I’m not like any of you. I’m twenty-five years old and I’ve got no special powers that I know of. But you need proof that demons exist? Well, no look no further!”

“Y/N, don’t do this—”

“You all must have heard about that old expression of selling your soul to the devil. Well, guess what? That’s what my mother did. She made a deal with the demon to get pregnant for me. And because of that, her and my father are dead.” You explained, your voice hardening with anger. "I might have have some fancy power like all of you. But I have hallucinations, nightmares because of this thing. And I know something else—if we’re gathered here together, that means it’s starting.”

“That’s a real cute story. But the only thing I got to do is stay away from wackjobs, okay?” Jake didn’t seem to care about anything you had admitted to him. “I’ve heard enough. I’m better on my own. FYI—So are you.”

Sam tried his hardest to call out the man’s name to continue this conversation, but you knew it wasn’t worth the effort. You placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him going after Jake. “Hey, let’s just give him a minute, all right? I’ll go talk to him after reality sets in. I know how scary it can be, after all.” You mumbled, giving the man a small smile.

\+ + +

For a deserted town, there was a lot of places for someone to hide. You decided to adventure around the place to find Jake, knowing the both of you didn’t exactly leave off on the right foot. Sam wasn’t exactly on board with the idea of you wandering around this place, but you had tried comforting him with the idea that you weren’t like everyone else, you knew defense in the moment called for it. On your third abandoned shop, you were about to go insane from the lack of human contact around here. As you turned your head to look at a window, your eyes caught something you weren’t expecting. You had to look twice to see that it was a little girl. There was something about her that seemed so familiar about her. And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight.

“Come play with me, Y/N.”

In the back of your mind, you knew it was a bad decision to listen to the voice that was foreign voice inside your head. But you could feel something about the tone that brought you back to your childhood. And before you knew it, you were taking small steps to the small cabin, forgetting about what you were doing in the first place. You walked up the stairs and slowly opened up the door, hearing the empty squeaks of the rusty hinges. The place you stepped into looked like an old school room from the desk in the corner of the room and the blackboard hanging on the wall. But the place was deserted looking from the rotting wood and broken desks across the floor.

You were almost in a trance, not seeming to notice the child laughter that was ringing inside your ears should have been considered a threat to know something wasn’t right. But you stood there, examining the room like nothing bad would have come about. It took a moment to realize you weren’t alone when you heard the sound of chalk scraping against the blackboard. Slowly looking over your shoulder, a frightening line was written on the board dozens of times. “I will not kill.” You knew why this was so familiar now. As you glanced back to the front door, she stood there again.

It was the same little girl you saw when you were four years old. She was filthy and just as terrifying from the last moment you saw her. You could see her hands reach up to her face. Her nails grew out into sharp claws, getting ready to attack. You blinked once more and she was right in front of you. You accidentally let out a gasp, taking a step back, just until you could feel yourself brush against the wall. But before anything could happen, someone’s voice broke you from whatever spell you were under.

“Get back!”

You quickly looked up to see that Sam had managed to find you before anything could get worse. He snatched an iron bar from the stove, taking a swing at the creature, somehow knowing that was its weakness. You watched as the little girl turned into a fog of black smoke, drifting off into the air and straight out of the door, right past the crowd of people that were lingering behind. You took notice that Jake was with them. You let out a shaky breath when you could feel yourself calm down when you knew the thing was gone. But you couldn’t help yourself but glance over at Sam, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Just so you know,” Sam said, turning his head to look at the crowd. “That was a demon.”

“Yeah. Figured I’d be the example.” You mumbled underneath your breath. You looked back at the younger Winchester. “I think she had some unfinished business with me.”

\+ + +

You could feel the several pairs of eyes wandering on your body when you awkwardly stepped out of the schoolhouse as you followed behind Sam. There were obvious questions that were buzzing around in the air, wanting to know really what had just happened. You had experienced something like this similarly back in your childhood. Glancing away from the empty roads you made eye contact with Sam, who was examining you himself, probably wondering what to make of this situation. You had no control of your body, it was like she was easing you into whatever she had planned, almost like what Andy could do. But you couldn’t snap yourself out of it.

“You’ve encountered that thing before?” Ava was the boldest one to speak up, her voice rising slightly when she looked at you. “And what the hell is wrong with you? I mean, I can understand why all of us are here. But you don’t have anything…wrong with you, right?”

“Easy girl, one question at a time.” You said, knowing everything that was happening was nothing short of scary. You let out a breath, glancing at everyone before deciding to crack down and tell the memory. “I encountered the demon when I was a little girl. Come to think of it, I was back at my old home. Remember, Sam? You and Dean were staying over. I could hear her voice.”

You could feel your eyebrows furrow together when you thought about the memory with more detail. “It was like she was trying to get me alone. And before I could stop it, I was leaning out my bedroom window, getting ready to fall to my death. Look—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I told you before. All I’ve been graced with is freaky hallucinations and nightmares. That’s about it.”

“Well, what all of you saw must have been an achiri—a demon that disguises itself as a little girl.” Sam said, stepping down from the building and glancing around the empty streets. “Doesn’t explain what happened to you, Y/N. Or where the hell we are.”

You couldn’t think of a reason that you could explain what was going on, but you turned your focus to the group for a moment to see how everyone was handling the situation. You could see that Andy seemed to have been zoning around, his fingers were laced together as he nervously twitched. “Andy, you with us or not?”

“Give me a minute.” He mumbled. “I’m still working through ‘demons are real.’”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a quiet sigh from the frustration. None of you exactly the time to spare to let everyone go through the initial shocks and scares that monsters were real. You allowed him to be caught up in his thoughts before you dragged everyone away from the place, knowing you wanted to be far away from here. As you traveled through the streets with no hope that you were going to find out where you were, it seemed like someone was on your side today from what you spotted in the distance. There was a well not too far from where all of you were, so you didn’t feel so guilty in making the rest of the group trail behind to see what you had found.

Trailing forward, you examined the bronze bell that hung up in a wooden post that was covered with weeds from years of neglect. The tree carved into the metal made something click inside your mind. “I’ve seen that bell before.” You said, remembering the similarity to an old picture from an article you found in one of your old textbooks. Suddenly browsing through them when you were bored as a teenager sure as hell paid off. “I think I know where we are now—Cold Oak, South Dakota. The town’s so haunted, every single resident fled.”

“Swell.” Ava said. She seemed to have been one of the few that was trying their hardest to be optimistic. You looked over to see that she was rocking her body on her heels, deciding to add on to what she’d previously said. “Good to know we’re somewhere so historical.”  
“Why in the world would that demon or whatever put us here?” Lily questioned.

“We’re all wondering the same thing.” You said, giving her a shrug.

Lily’s hands were wrapped around her silver chain, she tugged it around for a moment before looking over to the side, seeing that there was nothing in sight. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. The only sane thing to do here is get the hell out of dodge.” She said, seeming to have been the bravest one here. The woman turned around on her heels, walking straight into an obvious trap.

“Wait, hold on.” Sam called out, making the woman stop in her tracks. She waited for the obvious warnings you knew she was going to ignore. “Lily, the only way out is through miles of woods.”

“Beats hanging out with demons.” Lily muttered underneath her breath. 

“Lily, we don’t know what’s going on yet.” You said, speaking loud enough for her to hear what you were about to say. This wasn’t a joke. All of you were in a nightmare that didn’t seem to be giving you hints of being able to leave. There was something about her leaving that put a bad feeling in your mind. It kept screaming the message that if anyone decided to leave, they would face fatal consequences. “We don’t even know how many of them are out there.”

“Yeah, she’s right. We should—”

“Don’t say 'we.’ I’m not part of 'we.’ I have nothing in common with any of you.” Lily snapped, turning back around on her heels and storming over to Jake. Everyone was taken back from her outburst. Sam tried his hardest to calm down the woman, but she wasn’t having it. “You don’t know anything. I to—I accidentally touched my girlfriend.”

You gave her a sympathetic stare, knowing she must have been feeling all sort of guilt for what she’d done. It wasn’t her fault, but you knew she wasn’t going to see that way. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.” Lily said. “I feel like I’m in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse.”

"I’ve lost people, too. We both have. He has a brother out there right now. My best friend. And he could be dead, for all we know.” You admitted, nodding your head to the man standing across from you. “But I know how it feels to be scared and vulnerable. We’re all in bad shape. But I’m telling you this from my own personal experience, we need to stick together. This demon isn’t afraid to get mean just to prove a point.”

You knew it wasn’t what Lily wanted to hear, but she complied. “Fine.”

\+ + +

The best way all of you were going to survive this town was weapons. Most of the place was abandoned, but it didn’t mean people left this place in a hurry. There was bound to be something out in here that could at least fend off whatever was out there. On hunts, you Dean was the natural born leader, giving you and his brother commands on what to do. But it seemed that Sam was pretty confident enough in giving instructions to everyone, telling them what supplies was to be needed. For a brief moment, you sort of felt confident enough that you could survive whatever plans the demon had going on. One half a Winchester family was better than none.

“We’re looking for iron, silver, salt—any kind of weapon.” Sam instructed, heading up to the first house that all of you had spotted. It seemed promising enough that it could have been a good lead, knowing that splitting up into groups wasn’t the best idea just yet.

“Salt is a weapon?” Jake asked with disbelief.

“It’s a brave, new world.” You said, patting the man on the shoulder before making your way up the steps, following behind Sam and into the house, everyone trailed behind.

“Hopefully there’s food in your world, 'cause I’m freaking starving.” Andy said, bringing up a valid point. You could hear your stomach violently growl at the thought of food and the pounding inside your head suddenly become noticeable again. What you wouldn’t do for a scrap of your favorite food right not now. You glanced over at someone with the thought of your knife sitting in your shoe. You could almost kill for just a bite if that what it took for the demon to to pop in some food.

“Hello? Y/N!” You didn’t realize you were staring at the wall until Sam’s voice brought you back into reality. You gave him a small smile when he was staring at you with a peculiar look that made him wonder what was going on with you. “You…Are you okay?”

“Migraine. It must be from the hunger. And come to think of it, a piece of pie sounds pretty friggin’ delicious right now.” You said, not seeming to notice that you were beginning to sound like his brother. Your comment seemed to have allowed a quiet chuckle escape the man’s throat, all before it slowly died into a sullen expression. “Sammy, he’s fine. You need to worry about you.”

The both of you exchanged weak smiles before heading inside, knowing the search had just begun. Sam headed for a chest that was lying on the floor as you began to pick through the ruble to see if by chance there was something that resemble a good enough of a weapon. You turned your head to see that at least one of you had found something of use; Sam was holding a rusty knife that was still covered in blood. He didn’t seem to care as he tucked inside the weapon into his back pocket for safekeeping.

But it seemed all of you had hit the jackpot when you heard Andy call out, “You guys, I found something!” Everyone found their way back to the room where the man was standing with two heavy looking bags that you knew was the most important. "Salt.”

“Oh, you magnificent bastard.” You said, giving the man a grin. “You’re great, Andy. Now we can all—” But the thought died on your lips when you began counting the number of people in the room, there was one girl short. Your heart began to beat faster when you realized who it was. “Where’s Lily?”

You tried calling out the woman’s name as Sam tried himself, loud as he could. You were wondering if she must have escaped like she was hinting around before. But the distant sounds of a little girl’s laughter echoed through your ears, making a bad feeling sit in the pit of your stomach. Without much thought, you were stumbling out of the room and into the doorway, heading to the sideway of the buildings. You could hear everyone following behind, but your attention was kept on the haunting sight in front of you.

All of you had found Lily; she was hanging from the windmill, not moving at all. You couldn’t help yourself but make yourself tear away from the sight as you pressed a hand against your mouth. This wasn’t what you were expecting. She was right, this was a nightmare that kept getting worse with each passing moment.

“Okay, that—that’s officially, just…” Ava tried her hardest to speak full sentences, but you knew from the sudden rush of words that kept fumbling out of her mouth made you realize this wasn’t a joke. “Sam, she’s dead! She’s dead! You said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen. That’s…killed. Okay, you know, we have to get out of here.”

“I second that option.” Andy said.

“Not sure that’s an option.” Jake muttered, Ava let out a tiny squeak.

“Lily was trying to leave. The demon’s not gonna let us get away that easy.” Sam said, knowing the truth was a bitter pill to swallow. But someone had to say it. “We got to gear up for the next attack.”

“Oh, gear up?” Ava asked the man. Sam nodded his head. “Okay, well, I’m not a soldier. I can’t do that!”

You couldn’t help yourself but lose your temper for a moment. Before you realized it, you were grabbing the woman by the shoulders, making her stare at Lily’s hanging corpse. “Look, if you want to stay alive, you’re gonna have to. Or else, that’s gonna be you next.” You muttered, pointing a finger up at the sky. “Ava, you’re more than capable of doing this. The demon likes to see its prey squirm. But you’ve got to show him you’re stronger. Do you understand me?”

Ava wasn’t quite happy with the tone of voice you were using on her, but she nodded her head and began walking forward, knowing there was nothing more to see here. Jake offered to get Lily down, knowing it was the respectful thing to do. It was also another strike against the demon, knowing none of you were going to stand for his little tricks.

You let out a sigh of frustration when you could feel your headache let out a sharp pain, making you wince at the impact. You stopped in your tracks for a moment before you opened your eyes to see Sam and Andy were standing next you, wondering if you were okay. For someone that’s almost never suffered from this kind of pain you were now understanding what a pain it was. You kept telling yourself it was the hunger and stress that was coming from the events that were getting worse.

“You know, I was thinking about how much Dean would help right now.” Sam sighed out, knowing his brother was still in the back of his mind. “I’d give my arm for a working phone.”

“You may not need one.” Andy spoke up, making you and Sam look over at him, wondering what he was trying to get at. “I, uh, I mean, I’ve never tried it long-distance before. Do either one of you have anything of Dean’s on you, like something he touched?” Sam patted around in his pockets for a moment before coming up with a crinkled receipt from the previous motel all of you were staying at. Andy examined it, mumbling something about it being good enough. But something caught his attention. “D. Hasselhoff?”

“Yeah, that is Dean’s signature.” Sam said. Andy looked up from the piece of paper, wondering why it didn’t say the man’s name. You were curious to see how he tried to come up for an excuse for this one. He wasn’t quick like his brother, but you couldn’t help but let a small smile spread across your lips. “It…It’s hard to explain.” The other man nodded his head, before getting down to work. You should have felt a sense of relief knowing that there was a chance something good was going to come out of this, but the feeling in the pit of your stomach only began to grow heavier.

\+ + +

Night was approaching fast. Everyone had found comfort in a small home that had enough space for all of you to keep busy like sitting ducks. You and Sam were in charge of spreading around the salt, making sure it was lined up perfectly in each doorway and crack of this place. As you began to work on the windows, you could feel a sense of deja vu pass over you. It didn’t feel that long ago you were watching Sam salting that old cabin back in the woods. All of the remaining Winchester family was inside the place, not knowing the monster you were hunting was right under the same roof. You let out a sigh and glanced out the window to see the miles of empty space. You reminded yourself that all of you were safe for the meantime.

With an empty sack, you headed back over to the table to see that Sam was finished up with his part. You gave him a small smile as you placed down the bag. “My horoscope said I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.” You mumbled, trying to crack a pitiful joke. You twisted your fingers around the edge of the bag as a small silence fell between the both of you. When you looked over at Sam, you realized this was the first time either one of you had a moment to yourselves. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay.” He said. You narrowed your eyes at him, but he dodged your concerns when he directed the attention back to you. “What about you?”

You opened your mouth to make up a lie, but you couldn’t get yourself to do it anymore. “Horrible, actually.” You said, giving the man a forced smile. "I’m scared out of my goddamn mind. We’re deserted in the middle of nowhere with no chance of getting out. That’s not even the worst of it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. And I feel like when I do, it’s going to be something terrible.”

"Y/N, it’s going—” Sam was trying his hardest to be strong for the both of you, but it wasn’t making you feel any better. It was causing you to feel even more guilty about how you were acting.

“Please. Please, stop lying to me. Stop telling me that everything is going to be peachy freaking keen because it’s not.” You mumbled underneath your breath. You tried your hardest to keep the wall up, but you knew it was slowly crumbling for a moment. “I’m trying to be strong here Sam, but I can’t do this anymore. I need answers.”

Before you could stop it from happening, Sam was leaning over his towering body and wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into an embrace. That might have been the first time you felt safe all day, but you knew the feeling wasn’t going to last forever.

\+ + +

It was taking all of your self control not to fall asleep. You were sitting on the broken chair at the table that wobbled forward if someone accidentally leaned forward, a perfect way to jerk you back into reality. Ava and Andy were already passed out. Better to hear their obnoxious snoring sounds than the whines about being hungry and scared about what’s going to happen. You pressed a hand against your stomach when the growls soon turned to aches from not a scrap of food being seen all day. Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife tighter when the wood groaned from a breeze that passed through the home. It took you a moment to remember that salt was covering every inch of this room. Sam and Jake were keeping guard, too.

Nobody was going to die. You tried again to tell yourself that everything was going to be okay. Dean would find out where all of you were, everyone could go home and act like nothing had happened. You were going to eat your weight in any kind of food you could get your hands on when this was over. The small pep talk you gave yourself made a sense of relief wash over you. You leaned forward and crossed your arms on the table to rest your head. It wasn’t hard for your heavy lids shut themselves. You could taste the sleep you’d been pushing off for the past day. Your eyelids were growing heavier and heavier, until…

“Wakey, wakey, Y/N.”

Your eyelids slowly fluttered open from the unfamiliarity of the voice, wondering who was talking. Everyone seemed to be silent, acting like they didn’t say anything, so you tried to brush it off. But when you stared directly into the hallway where Jake was keeping guard, the sight of familiar neon yellow eyes caught your attention. He was here. You nearly stumbled out of the chair when you jumped to your feet, informing everyone that something was wrong. But nobody was listening to you.

Confusion washed over you when you stared at Sam, watching as his head bobbed up and down from the sleep he was trying to brush off. Your hands wrapped around the knife, swinging it forward for your protection. Something was wrong. If nobody could see him, that meant you must have been dreaming. He was getting inside your head again. But you weren’t going to let him win this time. You weren’t scared.

“What do you say you and I take a little walk?” He asked, acting as if everything between the both of you were casual. You could feel your teeth pressing together. As you glanced over at everyone, it was safe to say that you weren’t in any real harm. So, you followed behind the demon and out into the night air, with nothing but murder on your mind. You were just a few feet away was the monster that caused all of this chaos. How you wanted to rip his throat out. It seemed he knew how you were feeling. “You’re awfully quiet, Y/N. You’re not mad at me, are you?” 

“I’m gonna tear you to shreds, I swear.“ You threatened, your voice was low and full of anger. "The things I’m gonna do to you.

"When you wake up, sweetheart, give it your best shot.” Yellow Eyes said, brushing off the attempts at trying to hurt him. You could hear the humor that was lined in his voice, it only made you bore holes into the back of his head. What he said next almost caught you off guard, but you reminded yourself that he was inside your head. He knew what you were thinking about. “Quit worry about those brothers. I’d worry more about yourself.”

“What, are you going to kill me? Is this why you brought me here?” You questioned the demon. “You know, I don’t get it. Years and years of mental torture and this is your big finale?”

"I need your help.” His answer isn’t what you were expecting to hear, making the arrogant tone in your voice drop. You stared at the man in front of you with a peculiar feeling settling over you. “And don’t you want me to answer a few burning questions that won’t leave your mind? That’s why we’re talking like this. Plus—You and I are rooting for the same person, ya know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, beginning to walk behind the man as he continued on. “What are you doing?”

“Welcome to the Miss America pageant. Why do you think you’re here, Y/N? This is a competition.” Yellow Eyes stops in his tracks and turns around, lifting up his index finger to prove this little plan was nothing more than a game. It was survival of the fittest. “Only one of those crazy kids is going to make it out of here alive.”

Your mouth dropped open from the twist of events you didn’t see coming, “I thought they were supposed to be—”

“Soldiers in a coming war?” He finishes your thought, you nod your head. The demon explains the plans he’d had all along. He’s circling you like a prey, getting ready to pounce and go for the kill. But you remain quiet and composed, knowing you weren’t going to crack so easily. "That’s true. They are. But here’s the thing. I need a soldier. I just need the one.”

"Fantastic.” You reply with a sarcastic tone of voice. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Well, everything. You’re the one who’s going to help me pick. That’s why I brought you here. I know you can bring out the worst in people. Shake them to their very core and show the inner monster. Kind of like the ones you hunt. I need you to show me who’s worthy.” Yellow Eyes said. You stare at him for the longest time, wondering what he meant. “I gave you something special when your mother made that second deal. And I was saving the special reveal for this moment.”

“What did you do? You couldn’t help yourself hiss the question at the demon. Of course, he wastes time on small events from the past.

"You were quite into fairytales as a child, weren’t you? You pretended you were a character in a story. A nasty curse was put on you from birth. You were waiting for someone to set you free. It was how you coped with the hallucinations and noises nobody could explain. Everyone thought you were a disturbed child.” Yellow Eyes said. He getting off topic again. You could feel your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand when he continued. “You see, Y/N, a what I gave you wasn’t a curse. It was a blessing to make your life better.”

“You ruined my life.” You corrected him. “You killed everyone I loved.”

“Your mother knew what she was getting into. And your father, well, let’s just say he couldn’t outrun his past for very long.” Yellow Eyes said, brushing off your anger as nothing. “Your life was already moulded for you by Ella. She had everything planned out right until the very last breath she took after a hellhound ripped her to shreds. She wasn’t going to ruin this for me. So, I had to punish her. The cost of doing business, I’m afraid. I needed you sharp, on the road. You needed to be shaped into leadership material.”

“You know you’re a twisted son of a bitch, right? You ruined everything for me.” You growled at the demon with hatred. “Do you know the last image I have of my parents are? I’m two years old and I try to wake him. His body was lifeless. But I kept shaking and shaking him. Oh, and my mother? You tortured her for hours when I was away at school. You were possessing her. You could feel everything you did. Was it worth it?”

“Every last scratch on her pretty face.” He said. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in anger from his response. “You know, people always compare you to your mother. But I think you’ve pulled bits and pieces from everyone through the years. You can be a leader like Dean. Smart and humble like Sammy. Manipulative, reckless like your mother. And a monster like your father.”

You were caught off guard from what he’d said last, not expecting this conversation to end up like this. "What?”

“He’s not the man you’d thought he was. Well, nobody did. There was something dark inside of him that got washed away years ago. But thanks to your mother, I get to show it to him all over again. He’s right at home in Hell where he belongs. Andrew always thought he was better than me. But we have more in common than you think.” Yellow Eyes said, dancing around a topic you knew nothing about. A toothy grin spread across his lips from your ignorance. “Think about it, Y/N. All those nightmares you’ve been having are because of him. And if you let me, you can become the part he tried to destroy. Continue on with the family legacy.”

You couldn’t help yourself as the chuckle escaped your throat from what he was trying to presume was true. There was no chance, or proof, that someone like your father had been part of a dangerous lifestyle. He wasn’t what the demon was trying to hint at. Your father wasn’t one of them. It could have been possible. “You’re lying. This is one of those twists you’re trying to make me believe, isn’t it? He couldn’t have been—”

“There’s more to him than meets the eye. You know there’s no denying it. What you’ve been dealing with is just the beginning for what I have planned for you.” He said. You pushed your lips together, giving the demon a cold glare. “Look, you caught me a charitable mood. What do you say we make a little deal? I’ll spare Sammy from this. He’ll be back on the road with his brother like nothing happened. In return, you’ll become what I’ve always wanted. There’s just one more thing I need to do.”

You cross your arms over your chest, you’re not going to go along along with a plan you know nothing about. “And if I don’t agree?”

“Well, you better learn quick of who to trust out there. I hear completion can get real cutthroat.” Yellow Eyes said. “But you know how to find me if you change your mind. And I have a feeling you will. They always do.”

\+ + +

You’re not dreaming anymore when you’re face to face with Sam, who’s been shaking you awake for the past few seconds. It takes you a moment to realize what’s going on before the news that Ava’s been missing comes to light. You try and jump out of your seat, claiming that you want to help.

The bastard was here. You knew this was his way of trying to lure everyone out. But Sam thought it would be best to stick around to keep an eye out here. weren’t happy with the plan, but you obliged knowing it was best to keep everyone close together. When the boys left, you turned your attention to Andy for a moment, giving him the weakest smile you could muster up. You were going to give them ten minutes before you started looking for them.

But the countdown ended after five minutes when you could feel yourself about to lose yourself in frustration of the situation. So, you handed the knife Sam had found to Andy and told him to stay inside the circle of salt. You wandered out through the halls and into the night, searching the land before making your way to a possible place where you could hide a body. You quickly reached down and pulled out your own hunting knife that you’d kept for precaution, knowing the moment wouldn’t be any better than this. You began on your quest to find the missing young woman.

You were searching around the back of a house when you heard it. The sounds of a terrified scream echoed through your ears, and if you weren’t mistaken, it had to be from Ava. You ran quickly back to the house, knowing that is where the chaos was coming from. You were nearly out of breath from the speed you were going as you stomped through the halls. When you stepped into the doorway you saw Ava standing there with a panicked expression on her face. As you opened your mouth to ask what was going on, your eyes trailed down to the dead body on the floor. You stepped into the room, not keeping your eyes off the shredded chest of Andy.

“Oh, my God. No.” You muttered underneath your breath. You could feel your eyes beginning to prick with tears from what had happened. Out of anyone here, you knew Andy was the last one that didn’t deserve a brutal ending like this. “Ava, what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know.” She cried out. “I just found him like this!”

You made yourself step deeper into the room and examine his body. From the marks on his chest, you knew the only creature in this town that was capable of this. “How did that thing get in?” You questioned her, making sure to look over your shoulder so that nobody ruined the line. When you heard Ava still crying, you focus your attention back on her. “Where were you? Sam and Jake are searching high and low for you.”

“I just went to get some water from the well. Everyone was sleeping, I didn’t want to wake them.” She said. You furrowed your eyebrows at that detail. “I was only gone, maybe, like, two minutes.”

Your eyes slowly examined the room until you focused them on the windowsill. Someone broke the line. “Who did That, Ava?” You questioned, pointing at the window with your free hand. Ava tried to come up with a decent excuse, even trying to pin it on Andy, but you knew better. “That line wasn’t broken when I left. You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

“What? You don’t think—”

“I have to give you credit, Ava. You’re one of the smartest kids I’ve met so far. Five months can sure change someone.” You said. She was cornered from the panicked facial expression as you continued. “You’re the only one that can account for the time you’ve been gone. How you’ve been milking this little damsel in distress to Sam—you know he’s a big softie. And that headache you got…right when the demon got Lily. Cudos to you. You’re a quick learner.”

Ava sniffed a few times. You were expecting her to continue on with this act, but she didn’t. She wiped away the forced tears as she let out a chuckle. “Had you going, though, didn’t I? Yeah. I’ve been here a long time, and not alone, either.” She said. “People just keep showing up–children, like me. Batches of three or four at a time. But you’re the first one of your kind I’ve met.”

“You killed them—all of them?” You asked her with disbelief. “How could you?”

“I’m the undefeated heavyweight champ.” She said, acting as if the title was something to be proud of. You positioned your knife into a defensive mode, knowing it was still the both of you in this room. “But I had no choice. It was me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it. It’s crazy what kids like me can do with just a little practice. Do you know what I can do now? Andy made me curious to see if it would work on you. He was a real big talker, that was, until he was choking on his own blood.”

You opened your mouth to say something snarky to her, but you watched as she began to press her fingers against her temple. As you opened your mouth to ask her what she was doing, it didn’t take you long to realize she was capable of. You slowly could feel your hand with the knife being dragged forward, right into the direction of you. She was able to control demons, she could control you. You knew this was her way of her getting rid of the new competition. You tried your hardest to fight yourself as the knife began to reach closer to you abdomin. No. You couldn’t let her win.

“ I’m sorry, Y/N. But it’s o—”

Her last words were spoken when you shoved the knife into her stomach, the exact spot she was aiming for on yourself. But you weren’t remorseful like she was. She killed so many kids. She killed Andy. Hell, she was going to kill all of you. Ava deserved this.

You could see the shock glaze over in her eyes from what you were able to do. You pulled the knife out and quickly shoved it back in. You didn’t care. You knew she was still alive when you stabbed her again, again, again and again. It took a moment before you finally drew out the blade and let her body drop to the floor with a loud thud. You were breathing heavily as a small smirk began to twitch at the ends of your lips. You’ve never felt in total control like this before. As you tried to control your breathing, you glanced up into the night window to see your reflection. But you could feel the high drift away in a second from what you saw.

The person in the reflection was covered in blood and sweat from today’s events. In her hand she was holding a hunting knife that was soaked in a human’s blood. What was the most disturbing part was that you were staring at yourself, black eyes round and full like the moon outside. He was right. All this time, from how you were acting now. You could hear the knife drop to the ground, all before you could feel your knees buckle underneath from the fear that shakes your body to the very core.

\+ + +

You don’t know how long you were been sitting on the ground, but the sounds of two pairs of footsteps brings you back into the reality of the situation. It takes you a second before you’re reaching up a hand to wipe away the tears that had been falling. Sam and Jake must be back from their search. How you were going to explain what happened here was a mystery. But you were quick on your feet, something would come to mind.

They’re getting closer. You can see from the fire that’s still burning their shadows are dancing across the walls, they stop for a brief moment to examine the gruesome scene of blood and bodies.

Someone is standing next to you, this is your chance to explain. When you turn your head to see who it is, you’re taken back from the sight of Bobby and Dean. But you notice their facial expressions aren’t filled with joy to see that you’re okay, it’s almost terror as they wondered what happened here. “She–She was going to kill me. I-I I didn’t know what else to do.” You tried to explain. And the tears are coming back. With the guilty conscious.

You try your hardest to get back up on your feet, but you wobble from how weak your body is feeling. It’s probably from the hunger and past events. You’re rambling like a small child that’s trying their hardest not to get in trouble. But Bobby catches you. He seems to be the calmest one in the room. He tells you to breathe, but another thought crosses your mind. Someone you’d almost forgotten about.

“Sam. Where’s Sam?” You ask. When you glance over at Dean for an answer, he doesn’t make eye contact with you. The look on his face is eerily familiar. And the blood on his clothes doesn’t help, either. You can feel a wash of panic come through you, but the thought doesn’t register. A lazy smile spreads across your lips, “He’s outside, isn’t he?“

But nobody says anything. You can’t keep yourself from tearing away from Bobby, ignoring the shouts of your name. You’re running out of the house and into the the muddy streets from the rainfall. The land makes it hard to track your way through, but you don’t care. You’re frantically searching for Jake and Sam, but they are nowhere to be seen. Somehow, you’ve managed to travel far enough until you’re at the end of the town with just a fence keeping you from the Impala. A smile spreads across your lips when you see Sam, he’s lying on his back, probably tired from today’s events. You make your way to the backseat. Bobby and Dean aren’t far behind from you. 

You open up the door and call out the man’s name, but he doesn’t respond. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you step forward, deciding to push him lightly on the shoulder. He wasn’t a heavy sleeper, he should wake up. But your stomach twists into knots when you see he doesn’t respond to that. "Sammy. This isn’t funny.”

You want to push him again, but your eyes trail down to something he’s lying on, it’s a towel. As you lean forward to see why it’s there, your fingers accidentally touch something lukewarm and sticky. You slowly lift them up to see that it’s blood. And it’s not yours. Your heartbeat is furiously pounding inside your chest as your shaky hands slowly reach for his neck. You’re on the brink of years when you try to feel a pulse. But there’s nothing there. All you feel is his warm skin that’s beginning to drop.

“Sam?” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper, so quiet that even you can’t hear yourself. But still, the man doesn’t respond. It feels like someone had placed something down on your chest. You can almost feel your breathing becoming more shallow and sharper. You take a step back as you stare at your fingertips where his blood was smeared. “Oh, my god.”

This is all your fault. Everything’s your fault.

You thought he had a fighting chance. He was the man that could take on almost anything. He was supposed to spend the rest of the days on the road with his brother hunting. You could have prevented all of this from happening. All of this could have been avoided. But here he was right in front of your eyes, bleeding out in the backseat of the Impala.

Someone gently pull you away from the car, yanking you away from your thoughts that are only getting worse. Bobby shuts the car door shut so neither you or Dean can continue looking at the body. But you can’t get the image out of your head. You feel frozen from shock at what you’d been going through. All though when you hear Bobby say something and pull you into a tight embrace, that’s when it registers. Sam’s really dead. You can’t keep yourself but letting a muffled scream escaped your throat and the tears fall down your flustered cheeks.


	22. All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. Two.

It’s been two days. You’ve been trying your hardest to avoid the truth, burying yourself deep away from everyone that reminded you of the horrible events that took place. You haven’t eaten and sleep wasn’t much of an option. The images of his dead body kept replaying themselves over and over again when you tried closing your eyes. Dean had locked himself away from you and Bobby, knowing he was still trying to cope with the thought of the last person he could call family was dead and gone. He was crumbling down, and you weren’t there to help him like you should have been. But you couldn’t look at him in the eye and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

You couldn’t tell him Sam, his little brother, was dead. And there wasn’t a chance he was coming back from the dead.

“Get up.” Bobby’s voice startles you. You’ve been lying in bed almost all morning, your nose buried in one of the books that you saw lying in Bobby’s living room. While Dean had been staying in one of the cabins a few hours out into the woods, you were finding peace in staying at Bobby’s after he offered. But here was the man, standing in the doorway of the spare bedroom. Your eyebrows furrowed at his command. “I’m sick of seeing you moping around here, Y/N. It’s not gonna change what happened. You could have never known that things were going to end like this. Nobody did.”

"Yeah, but I could have prevented it.” You muttered underneath your breath. You slam the dusty book shut and drop it back down to the mattress. Everything that took place before the events had slipped out the other night. It was something that you wanted to keep to yourself, but in that moment, you couldn’t take the guilt of it anymore. “And besides, I think I’m the last person that Dean wants to see right now. He’ll probably push me away, like always.”

“You’re his best friend. The both of you have been through thick and thin. Out of anyone, you always seem to have a way to make that boy open up.” Bobby said, bringing up a valid point that didn’t seem to have crossed your mind much. You don’t want to go anywhere else, but when you watch as the man walks over to the bed and drops down a pile of clothes next to you. You know there’s no way you’re getting out of this. “Get dressed and meet me in fifteen minutes. Some fresh air will do you good. Maybe even bring some color to your face again.“

You can’t help yourself but roll your eyes at his commands, but you reach for the shirt and pants. This is for the good, you think to yourself. This is the closure all of you need to have because Sammy is never coming back. You hold the shirt close to your chest and glance down at the book that you were previously reading. Maybe there was something you could do. Maybe not.

\+ + +

Your palms are sweating with nervousness when you see the cabin coming into view. Bobby allowed you to borrow one of his scrap cars so you could track down the oldest Winchester and talk. Somehow the man was expecting you to work a miracle and get Dean into thinking logically. But you knew how grief worked, a little too well. It turned someone into a mindless human being that only questioned what they could have done to make everything better. You decided to only poke at the beast and see how he would react at trying to think about the future.

Killing the engine, you ran your palms down the thigh of your jeans, hoping that would be enough to hide most of the evidence that you were taking things too hard. The dark circles that were turning out to be baggages and adrenaline being the only thing allowing you to be here was enough evidence that showed for even you that you shouldn’t be here right now. You reminded yourself that Bobby asked you to be here, you were doing him a favor.

So, you sucked in a deep breath and snatched the food you’d stopped to get before on the way here. It was composed all of Dean’s favorite foods. You hoped it would be at least enough ammo to start the conversation that Bobby couldn’t bring up. What was going to happen to Sam’s corpse. You knew it was a matter of time before it started to smell, and you didn’t want that to the be last memory for Dean.

You headed for the front door, not sure what was the appropriate thing to do. You lifted up a hand to knock to announce your arrival, but even to you, that felt odd. Yet you didn’t want to catch the man off guard and scare him, not knowing how he would react. You decided to test the door handle, twisting it to see if the lock was placed, but you could push it wide open, allowing you to step right in. Sure enough, a bad feeling began to sit in your stomach when you stepped inside the cabin.

It was almost too quiet for anyone to be in here, but you saw him just across the way. Dean was standing in the doorway of one of the rooms with his back turned to you, almost like he didn’t even care someone had barged in.

"Dean?” You call out. Your voice is barely loud enough, but it echos off the wall and registers to him. A forced smile spreads across your lips when you see him slowly crank his head to see you. He’s even worse than you realized. The man was still wearing the same clothes, there’s dark circles that even you could notice from where you were standing. And there’s no life in his eyes. He just gives you a blank stare. All hope and life has been drained from his body. “I-I brought you some food.”

You walk across the cabin and into the small kitchen area where you see almost nothing except an empty liquor bottles and stale food nobody has touched. Pushing it off to the side, you set the bag down. As you turn to face the man, your attention lingers down to the body lying on the dirty mattress. You can feel all sorts of emotions bubbling into your chest when you see Sam’s face. He almost looks in peace, like he’s just sleeping and the man will wake up at any moment. But he never moves a single inch.

Dean’s voice brings you back into reality, “No thanks. I’m fine.”

“You should eat something.” You said

“I said I’m fine.” He repeats himself, this time, in a more harsher tone.

You know he’s in the middle stages of grief from how he’s acting, but he doesn’t want to share his feelings, like always. You know how he’s coping with everything when you watch as he grabs a half empty bottle of whisky from the counter, lifting it to his lips. The man takes a deep swing of it and swallows the harsh liquor like it’s nothing. He ignores the worried glance you give him when you realize he must have been drinking these past few days. You try and reach a hand to take the bottle away from him, but he quickly figures out what you’re trying to do, making him look at you with those eyes. You can see the anger, the guilt creep into them if you stare long enough. You let out a sigh and drop your hand. There isn’t a chance you’re going to win this battle.

“Dean, I hate to bring this up. I really do.” You say, beginning to start the dreadful conversation, the real reason why you were here. You take a deep breath in, trying your hardest to avoid the body that’s still lying in front of the both of you. “But don’t you think maybe it’s time,” Your fingers twine together in nervousness as your voice cracks from what you say next, “We bury Sam?”

The man looks at you straight in the eye, you can see the sudden rush of hatred from what you brought up. You feel like slithering away from what you brought up. And you could almost predict his answer before he even said it. “No.” He almost hisses at you, all before he takes a seat right across from his brother. Almost like he’s standing guard, trying to protect him one last time.

You let out a quiet sigh as you cross your arms over your chest. “All right. We could maybe…”

“What—torch his corpse?” Dean finishes the thought. You stay silent, but you knew it was the reason you were trying to gently dance around from his fragile state of mind. But he seems more comfortable with being aggressive and blunt with you right now. “No. Not yet.”

If he wanted to be this way, you were going to stoop his level for a moment. You gathered all your courage and leaned forward to the man, making him look at you directly in the eye. “Dean, I want you to come with me.” You command. He’s taken orders all of his life, you hoped this would be one of those moments where he would listen without much trouble. But it’s not.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says.

You can’t help yourself but give him a frustrated glare as your fingers run through your messy hair. Your patience is running thin, and it’s taking everything in you right now not to force him out of the chair. He might be twice your size, but you didn’t care right now. “Dean, please.” You muttered underneath your breath. Your voice is tired and strained. And he can hear it clear as day.

“Won’t you cut me some slack?” Dean questions you.

“I don’t think you should be alone, that’s all. And I was talking to Bobby before I left about something—we could use your help.” You said, your voice dropping into a softer tone when you speak to him again. But the quiet scoff that escapes from the man doesn’t make you happy. “He says something big is going down—end-of-the-world big.”

“Well, then let it end!” Dean yells at you, loud enough to let it echo through the quiet cabin. You’re startled from the shift of mood. You’ve never seen him this angry before, at least, when he was speaking to you.

“You don’t mean that.” You whisper to the man.

You can hear the wooden chair scrape against the floor; and in just a blink of an eye Dean is standing right in front of you, staring you down like the enemy. You’re almost shaking, wondering what he’s going to do, but he just stares at you for the longest time. “You don’t think so, Y/N? Huh? You don’t think I’ve given enough?” He throws questions at you, one after another. You glance at the other direction, not wanting to have this argument. “You don’t think I’ve paid enough? I’m done with it. All of it.”

When he speaks those words, you force yourself to look at him directly in the eye. You couldn’t believe the man that always tried to be brave for everyone around him, the voice of reason, was giving up so easily. “And if you know what’s good for you, turn around and get the hell out of here.” It almost seems like a threat, but you don’t listen to him, you just keep staring at him with your heartbeat almost pounding inside your ears. “GO.” He screams.

You know he’s nothing more than serious when you see his hand reach out to grab your wrist and fling you out here like some rag doll. Before he could even lay a finger on your body, you retaliate from his sudden heated anger. The back of your hand collides with his cheek to make him figure out what he was about to do. A loud sound of skin slapping against one another echoes in your ears as you watch his head twist to the side from the blow.

You stare at him with a cold glare, shaking your head. You’re left with stinging skin that buzzes with pain, but you know it’s no match for the reddening mark on the man’s face. Dean’s eyes soften when you’re standing there, visibly shaking with anger from everything that unfolded.

“I’m sorry.” Dean mumbles, turning his gaze away from you. He’s overcome with guilt from the irrational behavior that overtook his emotions. “I’m sorry. Please, just go.”

But you don’t. You stare at him for the longest time, trying to think of what could be the right thing to say to him. Yet, it’s all coming out faster than you make it stop. “You don’t think I’ve suffered enough? You don’t think I know what it’s like to feel abandoned? Should I ask you what it feels like to have that hollow feeling inside your chest that just feels like it gets worse and worse with each passing day.” This time, it’s your turn to scoff.

“It’s not gonna change anything. Locking out everyone that you have left isn’t going to bring him back, Dean.” You hiss. “You can sit and stare at that body, but it’s not gonna change anything! He’s dead!”

You bite your bottom lip when you feel the tears pricking your eyes from the words that you spoke in the past few days. You can’t lie to yourself anymore when he’s lying right in front of your eyes. You glance up to see that Dean’s staring at you, but you don’t care how upset you’re getting him. Snatching the bottle up from the table, you wave it around. “You think drinking is gonna solve everything, too?” You roughly throw it against the wall, watching as it shatters into little pieces.

It takes a moment before you let out a shaky sigh from what you had just done. You try your hardest to compose yourself. “I can’t stand here and watch you unravel into someone you’re not. Please. Keep going. Do it for me. And if that’s not good enough, do it for them.”

With that off your chest, you force yourself to stare at Sam’s body one more time before you head for the door, leaving like the man like he wanted. As you head for the car, you can’t help yourself but glance at the cabin one more time before leaving the brothers in peace for a final goodbye.

\+ + +

It had been a few hours since you left Dean alone, and nothing but guilt had been sitting on your chest. You didn’t know what to do in order to make this all right. You knew what he wanted to be alone, but the mind can be a crazy thing when all of those emotions are crammed into a tiny space. When night fell just a while ago, you forced yourself to get out of bed and tear the attention away from the book you’ve been reading. There to be something you could do in order to make things right. But nothing was jumping out of you. So, you snatched a bottle from Bobby’s personal collection and a few shot glasses. If Dean wanted to drink, he wasn’t going to do it alone.

You drove down the familiar path you took just this morning. Everything was dark from what you had remembered, making it almost seem like someone was watching your every move. But you weren’t afraid. The yellow-eyed demon got what he wanted. You weren’t afraid of him jumping out and trying to scare you. Nothing seemed to faze you at this moment. You weren’t sure if anything would, anymore.

With the bottle and glasses in hand, you walk back up the creaky steps that almost announce your arrival. But you want to keep quiet, knowing the man was probably still in a bitter mood. You quietly step inside the house and shut the door behind you. As you begin making your way to the room, his voice stops you in your tracks. You keep quiet to hear that he’s talking—it’s not to himself, but to his brother. You slowly press your backside against the wall to hide, suddenly curious to listen on what he was about to say, unaware of the heartfelt confession that followed.

“You know, when we were little—you couldn’t have been more than five—you just started asking questions. How come we didn’t have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where’d Dad go when he’d take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you-—'Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don’t want to know.’” Dean said. You could hear a soft chuckle escape the man for a moment. “I just wanted you to be a kid…just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you, keep you safe.”

He was still going on, confessing things he never even told you. But he didn’t know you were here, he thought it was just him.

“Dad didn’t even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It’s like I had one job…I had one job. And I screwed it up. Hell, Y/N probably hates me now from what I said. But you’re not here to make things better like you somehow always did. I screwed up.” Your bottom lip is almost quivering from what he’s opening admitting to, the guilt is clear in his voice. You want to run and tell him that nothing is his fault, but your feet are glued to the ground. "And for that, I’m sorry.”

There’s a small pause for a moment. "I guess that’s what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. I let Y/N down. And now I guess I’m just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do?” It felt like someone had dropped a heavy weight on your chest. Dean was breaking down, his mood shifting quicker and quicker. He was almost rambling to himself, but what he said next made you jump in fright. “What am I supposed to do?!”

He might not be able to do something, but maybe you could. You could feel the thought jump into your mind like a lightbulb going off.

Without even thinking about the contents in your hand, you hear them drop to the ground with minimal damage. You nearly are sprinting back to the car and you jump into the driver’s side. When you shove the key into the ignition, you can remember what the demon said about putting a stop to all of this. You just hoped he would allow you to take up his offer, even if it was past its expiration date. But you were giving him exactly what he wanted after all of this time—you.

\+ + +

Summoning creatures of the night and reading Latin wasn’t exactly your forte. You counted on Sam the most when it came to translating the dead language for purposes of hunts. But here you were in an empty field; you gathered all the supplies you needed to summon a demon, thanks to good old John. You remembered the list that he had composed after making up some lie for protection after that car crash. And the fact that you somehow managed to find a translated version of a ritual online seemed too good to be true. But you were going to flow with it, trying your hardest to mutter the foreign words with the only source of light coming from the headlights of the car and a small flashlight at your side. Pinching in the last of the herbs into the bowl, you reached for the knife next for the final ingredient.

You stared at the palm where the faint scar of a previous attempt of a tacky attempt took place in your teen years. You threw the thought out of your mind when you place the blade on your skin, wincing when you could feel the skin being ripped open. Blood began pouring from the open wound, before it could get everywhere, you quickly placed it over the ingredients. You watched as a few drops touched the bottom of the bowl, making you realize you were about to do something dangerous. But you didn’t care. You grabbed the box of matches for the last step in the ritual and lit the tip, all before throwing it into the mix, watching as a spark erupted. Well, that seemed to be clear enough evidence to know that this ended right.

You stared around for a moment, waiting to see him appear, but there was nothing for the longest amount of time. As you were beginning to think that you could have done this wrong, a familiar voice brought you back into reality.

“Y/N, what a lovely surprise.”

Yellow Eyes is standing right in front of you, a toothy grin spreading across his lips at the sight of you with everything you need to sell your life away. You aren’t intimidated from the attitude he’s giving you right now. Getting up from the ground, you brush off the dirt from your pants before looking at the demon. What you’re about to say is something you thought you would never do, but you don’t care. There’s more important things to worry about right now. “I want to make a deal.”

“I told you they come back. They all do.” He says. You want to make a snarky remark for what he said, but you remain quiet. “Tell me, Y/N? What do you want to sell your life away for so badly?”

"You said you wanted something from me, and you would do something in return.” You said in a calm tone. “I want Sam back. And I want him back, now.”

“Like mother, like daughter.” He says. You stare at him for the comment that he makes, but you don’t let it affect you. Yellow Eyes takes a few steps forward until he’s standing right across from you. He reaches down a hand and grabs your hand, the one that you cut. A smirk begins to grow at the ends of his lips. “Do you want to know what made those children so special? They weren’t born with it. I had to give them something to make them for who they are. I’ve always been curious to see what would happen if I did it to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What did you do?”

Yellow Eyes leans down to grab the knife from the ground. He doesn’t answer your question right away, he takes a moment to examine the bloody end of the blade. You are about to ask him again, but it seems you’re about to get your answer when he slices his palm, exactly like you had before. Before you can try and break free from his grip, you can feel both of your palms pressed together, lathering the sticky substances until it mixed. You stared at him with surprise. It was like the Croatoan virus that made people go crazy. He was getting his blood into your system.

You nervously swallow as you try to pry yourself away, but the demon pulls you only closer. You stare into the neon yellow eyes, knowing there is trouble about to follow from what you agreed to. 

“You know the story, Y/N. On their sixth month birthday, I visited each of those children. I sliced my palm and watched,” You stared at him in horror when you feel him press harder. “I watched the droplets of demon blood ran into their system. Some of the mommies got in the way. But who cares about that little detail? It made them for who they are. And I’m very curious to see what it’s gonna do to someone like you.”

You managed to finally pull away from the demon, stumbling backwards as you stare at your bloody skin. This wasn’t how you wanted things to go, but it seemed that Yellow Eyes was good on his promises. He tells you exactly what you want to hear. “Go. Sammy should be waking up in a little while, like nothing happened. And I think you got some explaining to do, young lady.”

You shove your hands inside your pocket with your free hand, nearly running to the car and getting yourself inside. You lock the doors and turn on the engine. As you stare the outside scenery from the driver’s side, the demon’s gone.

\+ + +

The groaning coming from the car engine doesn’t seem like a very good sign as you drive down the back roads. Your foot is pressed against the gas pedal as you carefully watch the speed coming up closer with each passing minute, you’re getting closer to the cabin. The part of your pain that thinks logically knows that this isn’t safe, but you don’t care right now. Your fingernails digs deeper into the the leather interior of the steering wheel when you glance down at your bandage hand. It’s a careful reminder that you’ve crossed the line, something wicked and impure is now rushing through your veins. You’re not sure what consequences are going to come of this. But you don’t care right now. This is the most you’ve felt alive in years. Everything is looking up.

After a few minutes of driving, you see the cabin finally come into view. You notice that the Impala isn’t parked outside from the last time you were here. A rush of panic rushes through your body as you begin thinking that Dean might have gone through with the burial, or the hunter funeral. You get out of the car and begin heading inside the house, not caring about the amount of noise you were making. A hand slowly reached for the door handle, silently praying that there was someone inside. You stepped inside the hallway and stand still for a moment. There’s nothing but silence.

You could feel the nervous tide coming over you again when you rush through the tiny house, wondering if your worse fears are about to come true. As you make it to the back bedroom, you stopped in your tracks, lingering in the doorway at who you saw standing in front of the dirty mirror. It was someone you thought you would never see up and around again. You speak his name, your voice barely rising above a whisper. But he turns his head to look at you, a warm mile stretching across his lips from seeing you, almost like he didn’t know what happened just days before.

Before he can start asking questions, you are walking across the room with tears beginning to prick your eyes, happiness coming from everything that was happening. The man is almost twice your size, so you try your hardest to wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight embrace, like he’s going to disappear again. All you want to do is just stay here for a while and enjoy this moment, but it seemed you had forgotten about his previous injuries on his lower back that you’re squeezing too hard. “Ow.” Sam muttered out with pain. “Um, Y/N…” That brought you back into reality. You quickly pull him away, whispering an apology as you step away from him to give him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry. Uh, I’m sorry.” You said, trying your hardest to compose yourself. A small chuckle escaped your lips, it was shaky and quick, but the feeling made you break out into a smile. “I’m just—I’m just happy to see you up and around, that’s all. Oh, come on. Sit down.”

You direct him back to the bed, where he took a seat at the edge as you drag back over the chair Dean had been sitting on for hours the day before. “Y/N, what happened to me?” He asks, you are caught off guard from this. You almost try and figure out an escape plan that seemed good enough, but you end up turning the conversation back around on him.

“Well,” You push yourself on the edge of the chair, “What do you remember?”

“I-I saw Dean and Bobby, and,” Sam begins to retell the last moments of his life to you, which you weren’t there to see first hand. You’re hanging off every last word he says. “I felt this pain, this sharp pain like…like, white-hot, you know, and—and then Dean started running at me,” You can’t imagine what pain the oldest brother must have been going through when he caught the dead man in his arms. But he was back. And everything was going to be okay. "And, well, that’s about it.”

“Yeah. Turns out not everyone is who they appeared to be. I heard Jake stabbed you in the back, you lost a lot of blood. We were worried that you weren’t going to make it.” You say, feeling the false story just slip off your tongue like it’s nothing. You’ve grown accustomed to telling a few white lies. It was for the best. You reach out a hand to wrap your fingers around his, giving it a gentle squeeze when you smile at him again. “But, like a trooper, you pulled through. I think you’re going to be just fine.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed at what you had admitted. The man was smart, too smart for his own good, and it was just a matter of time before he was connecting the dots. “But, Y/N, you—you can’t patch up a wound that bad.” He said, bringing up a valid point you didn’t think of before.

“No, Bobby could.” You lied, again.

From that, Sam seemed to have found it clear enough that there wasn’t much thought to be wasted on that. You and him were quiet for a moment before he’s bringing up someone you hadn’t wasted much thinking process on. “Jake. Did anyone get him?”

“No.” You admit this time. “Dean said he disappeared into the woods.”

“We got to find him, Y/N.” Sam isn’t quite the violent one between the pair of brothers, but when he gets that predatory look in his eye, like he’s not afraid to strangle someone with his bare hands if the person was standing right in front of him. He works through the pain as he gets up from the bed. “And I swear I’m gonna tear that son of a bitch apart.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, Killer. Don’t forget you just woke up. Let’s get some food in your stomach before I send you off to fight crime.” You say, cracking a small smile at the man. But you see that his attention is being drawn on something else.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering what he’s looking at with so much curiosity. As you glance over your shoulder, you see the object that’s sucking away his attention, it’s Dean. The oldest brother is standing in the middle of the doorway with a look in his eye that you can’t quite make out. His mouthparts open, you’re quick to speak again. “You want something to eat? I’m starving. It’s my treat, of course.”

You’re staring at the floor as you wander out the doorway, slipping past his figure through the small crack in the door. You wander to the outside again, digging your hands into your pocket to fetch your keys. With this food run, you’re sure nothing bad is going to happen. It’s just the confrontation between you and Dean that’s waiting for you. You know it’s not going to here, but you dread the thought that’s in your near future. And, like how the both of you argue, it’s not going to end pretty.

\+ + +

“I’m back!”

A quick ten minute food run ended in you scouring across most of the town to find out what the brothers would like for this mini celebration. It ended you in picking up Chinese, a large pizza and a few things from a fast food place on your way back. You can hear the sound of footsteps coming from the other room until you see them. Everything is immediately being taken out of your hands and brought into the table area. A few minutes later, you’re sinking down into a chair with your warm food lying in your hands, taking the largest bite in the least graceful way. But you don’t care, it was just the brothers. You let out a guilt free moan, mumbling something about how good the food tasted. Not eating for almost four days seemed to have been the worst decision of your life.

You take another bite of the food and look up at the brothers, wondering what they were thinking right now. You quickly drop your wounded hand out of sight when you see Dean’s lingering gaze being kept on it. But your attention is drawn back to Sam when he asks you about Andy and Ava, knowing they were one of the few people that were trapped with you there. You let out a quiet sigh and placed your food back on the table. Swallowing the last bite, you decide it’s only fair that you tell him the truth, and Dean seemed to have been curious how the bloodbath occurred. 

You spend a few minutes explaining during his search that Ava had used that as a trick to get Andy alone. She had been there for the entire five months that she went missing, perfecting her skills and killing off dozens that popped into the place. You even make yourself explain why the yellow-eyed demon wanted you there for, but left all the other details out. They didn’t need to know that, nobody did. You say that you heard Ava screaming after she discovered Andy’s mutilated body, but you knew there was something off about her, and you were right. When she realized it was the both of you alone, the opportunity arose for her. She tried to make an attempt at your life, you only acted in self defense.

“And that’s when you guys showed up.” You say, running your palms down your thighs. You’re nervously looking around the room from what you had admitted. A painful sting comes about from you accidentally pushing on your wound. “Feels like it was just a nightmare that kept getting worse.”

“That’s awful.” Dean said. You make yourself look at him directly in the eye. “Poor Andy.”

“The demon said he only wanted one of us to walk out alive.” Sam admitted that small fact, all before popping the last bit of the pizza crust into his mouth. You reach for your food again, your stomach growling for attention. As the food began to reach for your lips, your attention is drawn back to the oldest brother when he asks a question, his voice is filled with disbelief from what the both of you endured. It was a competition, either you kill the ones around you. Or you’re good as dead. Your eyes flickered toward Sam for a moment from that thought.

“He told you guys that?” Dean asked, breaking you from your concentration on the man.

You nodded your head, letting out a small scoff. “He appeared in a dream.”

“He tell you either of you anything else?”

That was a question you weren’t willing to answer right away. You and Sam stare at one another for a moment before the same response was just a shake of a head. “No. No. That was it. Nothing else.” Sam says, looking over at his brother. When you think you could start getting comfortable with the idea that all of this could be behind you, the youngest brother brings up something that makes your stomach twist. “You, what I don’t get, guys, is if the demon only wanted one of us, then how did Jake and I both get away?”

“Well, I mean, they left you for dead. I’m sure they thought it was over.” Dean says. You furrow your eyebrows at the man’s answer. But he lifts up the piece of pizza and takes a large bite. “Now that Yellow Eyes has Jake, what’s he gonna do with him?”

“I don’t know.” Sam admitted. “But whatever it is, we got to stop him.”

“Hold on, alright? You need to get your rest.” You said, pointing your finger at the table, making him sit at least in one place for now. “We’ve got some time before all hell breaks loose on us.”

“No, we don’t.” Sam said, acting like you should have known there was deep trouble coming.

“Sam, oceans aren’t boiling, okay? Frogs aren’t raining from the sky. And Y/N’s right.” Dean said, jumping to get his brother to calm down from this sudden rush of vengeance. It feels weird that he’s siding with you on something, knowing the argument the both of you had not that long ago keeps replaying in your mind. “Let’s get your strength back first.”

“Okay. Well, since we’re just sitting around, did you check with the Roadhouse?” You asked the man. “Do they know anything?”

Dean let out a small sigh, his eyes lingering around the room. The man is acting like he’s holding a deep secret from the both of you. “Yeah, about that.” He mumbled underneath his breath.

You say the man’s name in a worried tone before speaking again, “What is it?”

There was something that had been going on since you and his little brother left, a dangerous effect that you wanted to know about. You watched as the man pulled up a free chair from the side of the room and sit down, right at the head of the table so he was between the both of you. Dean lets a quiet sigh, what he says next wasn’t what you or Sam were expecting to hear. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of you just from the thought. “The Roadhouse burned to the ground. Ash is dead, probably Ellen—a lot of other hunters, too.”

You can’t help but feel somehow responsible for putting all those lives in danger. It was a tragic thought that someone in this kind of business could be here one moment, but the next, gone in a blink of an eye. You ran a hand down your face from the stress that seemed to have doubled. “Demons?” You ask, already suspecting they were at fault.

“Yeah, we think so.” Dean answers you. “We think because Ash found something.”

“What’d he find?” Sam asked.

“Bobby’s working on that right now.” Dean said.

“Well, come on, then.” Sam said, acting like he was up for another big adventure. He placed both hands on the table and tried pushing himself up. “Bobby’s only a few hours away.”

The man could barely get out of the chair without much of a struggle, but Dean was jumping out of his seat, catching his little brother from falling down. He started scolding the man for acting out on pure whim. What he said next made you feel a sense of guilt, not knowing what he was thinking right now. But the sentence that came out of his mouth seemed believable, like it wasn’t another lie he was forced to go with.

“You almost died out there. I mean, what would I have,” He stops himself from saying anything else. “You just take care of yourself for a little bit, huh? Just for a little bit.”

No matter what, even coming back from the dead, you should have known it wouldn’t stop a Winchester from doing what was right. Sam shook his head, saying the answer you and his brother were dreading. “I’m sorry. No.”

\+ + +

You decided to follow behind the Impala, knowing that you needed to return the car, anyway. And you couldn’t stand the idea of being inside the one place where Sam’s body laid minutes after his death. You brushed the idea out of your head and kept your eyes on the road, allowing the silence to soothe your mind for a chance. There was something big about to follow, and you knew it wasn’t the danger that was following for whatever plans the demon had in mind. You were more worried about the ones that were brewing close to home. Dean was going to have questions when he got you alone. And you still didn’t know how to answer them.

Everyone arrived just a few minutes apart from one another. You got out of the car and shoved the keys into your pocket, ignoring the brothers as you followed behind, heading up for the front door. You shoved your hands inside your jeans and watched as Sam knocked on the door. A few moments passed before the door opened. You sucked in a breath, wondering how the man was going to react from the sudden change in events. Last time he saw the youngest Winchester, he was good as gone. But here he was just a few days later, looking better than ever. Sam gave the man a crooked smile when he saw the surprised look wash over for a moment.

“Sam. It’s good to…” Bobby says, slowly examining the younger man, almost like wasn’t believing what was in front of his eyes. “It’s good to see you up and around.”

Sam steps inside the house, what he says next makes you want to crawl away. “Yeah, well,” He slaps an arm on Bobby’s shoulder. “Thanks for patching me up.”

You can feel a pair of eyes burning at you with nothing short of anger when you follow behind the brothers. You stop for a moment and hand over the keys. When you glance down to drop them into Bobby’s hand, you slightly panic when you used the wounded hand, giving him a perfect clue to figure out what you did. But he’s staring at you and Dean, not sure what is going on. He’s wondering who made the deal to bring back the youngest Winchester from the dead.

“Well, Sam’s better.” Dean seems to have come to your rescue, bring the attention toward him. But the man doesn’t look any less guiltier than you. He’s avoiding eye contact with Bobby as much as possible. “And we’re back in it now, so, what do you know?”

The three of you are in some kind of staring contest, wondering who’s going to break first. But Sam’s confused looks are a good enough reason to keep acting like nothing is happening. All of you retreat to another part of the house where you see all sorts of new information lying out on the table. Whatever was going on, Bobby was right, it wasn’t something small. There was some kind of evil coming. And it was coming fast.

“Well, I found something, but I’m not sure what the hell it means.” Bobby says, you could feel a growing concern from how the conversation starts. You know that’s never quite a good sign that things are cut and dry like you hoped. These monsters always like to make things more harder and complicated than it should be. You can feel a headache coming, but you brush it off.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“Demonic omens, like a frickin’ tidal wave. Cattle deaths, lightning storms. They skyrocketed from out of nowhere.” Bobby explained to all of you. He grabbed a map that was lying underneath a pile of papers, they were brushed off to the side as he twisted around the map for all of you to see. “Here. All around here except for one place—southern Wyoming. The one area’s totally clean—spotless. It’s almost as if…the demons are surrounding it.”

“But you don’t know why?” You can’t help yourself but ask him.

“No, and by this point, my eyes are swimming. Sam, would you take a look at it? Maybe you could catch something I couldn’t.” Bobby turned his attention toward the younger man. But you know this conversation isn’t going anywhere good when he turns his attention to you and his older brother. “Come on, Y/N and Dean. I got some more books in the trunk. Help me lug them in.”

You know the look in his eye, it was the exact same stern glare your mother would give you after getting in serious trouble. But you didn’t fail a major test or talk back when you weren’t supposed to. You could still feel the familiar heaviness beginning to grow in your stomach as you followed behind the oldest man, leaving Sam to search over information. You can see the familiar amount of scrap cars that pass you by. All of you are getting farther and farther away from the house until it just seems like a sight that’s nothing but cars. You seemed so focused on the sight, you don’t seem to notice what’s about to happen next.

Someone grabs you by the wrist, yanking you to a stopped position. You glance over to see that Bobby is holding up your wounded hand for display. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing, but before you can stop it either, he rips off your makeshift bandage, throwing to the ground. "What? You think I wasn’t going to find out?” He questions you. The man lets go of you, knowing there isn’t enough evidence for you to start lying from what he says next. “You’re a pretty damn good hunter, I’ll give you that. But you’re stupid when it comes to clearing your tracks. I know what you did. You summoned the damn thing, did you?”

You know there’s no more denying the truth, but you try and defend your actions. “I—”

“You, what?” You turn your attention to the oldest brother, who seems to have broken out of his shell for a moment. The news of you bringing about the last person he wanted to hear about right now made him become furious. You stared at him, wondering why he was getting so upset. “You know what that thing did you, and you thought it was smart enough to bring it back?”

“Oh, because what you did was so much better!” You snapped at him, focusing your attention on Dean. “Maybe if you kept moping around long enough, I would have got everything back to normal without cutting my life short!“

"Did you forget the son of a bitch killed my mother?” Dean wasn’t afraid of the bravery that you were showing him. You rolled your eyes from the point he made, but it wasn’t the only one. “He killed Jess, too. What makes you think he’s not going to do the same to you when you least expect it?”

“We get it, Dean. The big, bad monster killed your entire family.” You said. Your voice was almost mocking him from the points he brought up. “Do you forget he killed my mother? He didn’t even blink of an eye when my father was dragged into this mess without his knowledge. But, hey, you want to keep thinking you’re the only one that’s lost someone to this thing, fine. At least I don’t have a time limit. How long did she give you, Dean? Hmm?”

The question brought the man to silence; you and Bobby stared at him, wondering what the answer was going to be. You could see his jaw tightening from the glare you were giving him, but after a few moments of silence that felt like eternity, he answered. “One year.”

Suddenly you’re not angry at him anymore, more shocked from The truth he tells you for once. Your facial expressions soften when you realize there’s a possibility that he could be gone for good. And there’s nothing you could do about it like before. “Oh, my God.”

“Damn it, Dean.” Bobby muttered underneath his breath. He’s overwhelmed from the emotions that seem to be getting worse each confession that’s coming from the both of you. “Neither one of you can learn from your parents, can you?”

“Which is why we got to find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch. That’s why I’m gonna kill him myself. I need to make sure Y/N doesn’t get dragged deeper into this mess.” Dean says, acting like nothing is wrong. You and Bobby stare at him. “I got nothing to lose, right?”

You can’t help yourself but snatch the man by the collar of his jacket, your fingertips digging into the fabric as you dragged him forwards, you’re staring at him directly in the eye. “I could beat the stupid out of you.” You threatened him, but your voice is low and loud as a whisper.

“And send me downstairs ahead of schedule?” Dean tried cracking a joke. You could feel the smallest smile twitching at the ends of your lips before you push him away.

“What is with your Winchesters, huh? You, your dad, you’re both just itching to throw yourselves down to the pit.” Bobby says, venom lining in his words.

“That’s my point. Dad brought me back, Bobby. I’m not supposed to be here.” Dean said. You stare at the man with astonishment from what he was saying. You had never seen him so low, so desperate to throw himself into something he hated his father for doing. And here he was not too far later, doing exactly what his father did. “At least this way, something good could come out of it, you know? It’s like my life can mean something.”

“What? And it didn’t before?” You nearly scream at the man from his answer. “Do you have such a low opinion of yourself that you’re willing to burn in Hell? Are you that damaged in the head?”

“I couldn’t let him die, Y/N. I couldn’t. He’s my brother.” Dean said. You swallow when he’s giving you a look with those eyes of his, making you realize how much trouble all of you were in. “You did the same thing. You know you couldn’t live without him.”

“How is your brother gonna feel when when he knows you’re going to Hell?” Bobby questions the oldest Winchester. When he turns his gaze to you, it’s just a matter of time before he brings up what you did. “How do you think he’s going to react when you bargained for something you don’t even know what for? The both of you are so much like your parents. Dean, how did you feel when you knew your dad went for you? And Y/N, all the guilt you feel because of what your momma did. None of you are safe.”

“You can’t tell him.” Dean’s voice drops, you can hear that he’s almost pleading. “You take a shot at me, do whatever you got to do, but please don’t tell him. There’s too much at stake. I need this to work just long enough to make sure that demon is dead. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to Y/N, either.”

You shake your head from the frustration that he was giving you. But when he looked at you, with those green eyes that seemed to have been filled with nothing but sorrow these past few days, you stop yourself from saying anything. You tear your gaze away from him to stare at something in the distance when you feel yourself beginning to become emotional again. Bobby was right, the both of you were screwed. Your fingers entwined into a tight fist when you remember. There was no denying that something was going to happen, and even Dean couldn’t stop it. But your attention was ripped away from your thoughts when something echoed in your ears.

All heads turned to see where the noises were coming from. Not taking a chance, you followed behind the men before taking cover behind a junk car. You crouched down on the ground and peeked out the car window to see who was coming. As the shadow began to grow larger, that’s when everyone decided to take action. You are thinking it’s going to be a stranger, or him, but who you see standing in Bobby’s grip makes you feel overcome with some joy. A fraction of a smile spreads across your lips, before it drops, seeing her frightened expressions.

“Ellen?” You ask, almost in disbelief to see the woman safe. She tries nodding her head before you pull her into a hug, wanting nothing more than to prove that the woman is okay. You can feel her arms squeeze around you tight as she could. Your eyes flicker to the men, knowing this was the only moment of happiness either one of you were going to have.

\+ + +

The woman sitting at the head of the table had everyone’s full attention; never have you heard of demons showing any amount of sympathy to allow another human life to just slip through their fingers without even a scratch on them. But here was Ellen, shaken from the events that had taken place just a few days before. She managed to be on the run before making her way here. None of you were thinking it was being over dramatic when Bobby began to pour the woman a shot glass of holy water, just to be on the safe side. She wasn’t particularly pleased from the test as Bobby slid the shot glass across the table. It was almost like she was offended that all of you thought she was possessed by one of those monsters. All though after an eye roll, you watched as she downed the water in just one sip without any of the side effects you were waiting to see.

“Whisky now.” She said, slamming the shot glass against the table before pushing it back to Bobby, right where the bottle of liquor she desired laid. “If you don’t mind.”

“Out of anyone that I know, you deserve it.” You couldn’t help yourself but say. Bobby grabbed the bottle and poured just until the very tip. “Ellen, if you don’t mind me asking, but what happened back there? How’d you get out?”

“I wasn’t supposed to. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else. But we ran out of pretzels, out of all things. It was just dumb luck.” She admits, letting out a small scoff. You watch as the shot glass slides over the table until it was in her grip. She lifted up the drink to her lips, taking it all down in one swallow before exhaling sharply from the burn. “Anyway, that’s when Ash called, panic in his voice. He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time that I got back, the flames were sky-high, and everybody was dead. I couldn’t have been gone more than fifteen minutes.”

“Sorry, Ellen.” Sam mumbled an apology with a sullen tone. All you could do was give the woman a sympathetic smile when she made eye contact with you for a moment before staring back down at the shot glass.

“A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live.“ Ellen seemed to have been talking to herself from what she was saying. Your eyebrows furrowed. She still had a daughter out there, all of you needed her. "Lucky me.”

You opened your mouth to ask a question from something Ellen had previously mentioned before that caught your attention. But before the words could come out, you were stricken silent from a sudden pressure coming from your temples. You closed your eyes in pain as you reached up a hand to cradle your head. It felt like someone was trying to break your skull open from the inside out. You were trying your hardest to cope with the sudden migraine, thinking that’s all it was. They had been coming and going since coming back from that unpleasant adventure back in South Dakota. All though, which each one that came, it felt like the pain was getting worse and worse. It sounded like someone was calling out your name in a worried tone after a moment of silence.

You brushed off the pain as nothing when you could feel it subside after a moment. Sucking in a deep breath, you glanced over to the corner of the room with sudden curiosity while you tried remembering the question. But you could feel your attention being forced to a familiar face, the same pair of eyes that you promised wouldn’t stare at you until he had a bullet in his forehead. It was the demon, you frantically thought to yourself. How did he get himself in here?

“Y/N?” You jumped a few inches in your chair when you felt someone rest their hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to see that it was Dean, he was giving you a concerned look from how you were acting. “Hey, you okay?”

Your eyes slowly wandered over to the corner again, fearing that you were going to see Yellow Eyes again with that smirk, but you could feel relief flood through your body when all you saw was an empty space. You gave him a small smile as you nodded your head. It took you a moment before you remembered your question. All you wanted was the attention in the room to be focused back on the more important tasks. “Ellen, you mentioned a safe.”

“A hidden safe we keep in the basement.” She answered.

“Demons get what was in it?” Bobby asked the woman.

Ellen seemed to have been one step ahead of all them; you watched as she lifted up the side of her jacket to pull out a map that Ash had been working on all of this time. She opened it up and laid it across the table when you saw marking spread across the place, but as she pushed it over to the rest of you, a similar name caught your attention.

“Wyoming.” Dean said, but that didn’t seem to have been his focus. His hand gestured to all the spots that were marked, almost in a pattern none of you were getting the importance of. “What does that mean?”

\+ + +

If there was an answer about the supernatural, Bobby was your man. The five you split up into hunting down the reason why Wyoming was coming a recurring theme. And why were these demons so interested in it. There were at least dozens of books from the first room you were sitting in alone that could have been a possibility for answers. But an hour into research, the first book you had been skimming was giving you information you already knew about the soulless monsters. You were ready to slam it shut and start on another that was sitting right next to you on the table, but your attention lingered upward when the older man seemed to have stumbled upon what all of you were looking for. 

Everyone gathered back around at the table when Bobby headed forward with a hardcover book in his hand. A finger went down to touch the map, more specifically where the sharpie marks were. “Each of these X’s is an abandoned frontier church—all mid-19th century and all of them built by Samuel Colt.”

“Samuel Colt,” You repeated the name, trying to wonder why it sounded so familiar, but then you realized what he was so famous for. The gun that had went missing after John died, the one thing that could kill any creature. “The demon-killing, gunmaker Samuel Colt?”

“Yep. And there’s more. He built private railway lines connecting church to church. It happens to lay out just like this.” Bobby explained. He reached out a hand to grab a black marker, tracing the pattern until it was something familiar. Your mouth parted open as you pulled the map closer to you. Well, now you were starting to see things a bit more clearer.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

Your lips twitched into a smirk, “It’s a devil’s trap. A hundred square mile devil’s trap.”

"That’s brilliant.” Dean said. “Iron lines demons can’t cross.”

“I’ve never heard of anything that massive.” Ellen admitted, staring at the map with disbelief.

“No one has.” Bobby said.

“And after all these years, none of these lines are broken?” Dean asked. “It still works?”

“Definitely.” Sam spoke up, his oldest brother gave him a look, wondering how he knew the answer so quick, unlike everyone else. “All those omens that Bobby found. The demons, they must be circling and they can’t get in.”

“Yeah, well,” Bobby said, “They’re trying.”

You stared at the map for a second, “Why? What’s inside that’s so important?”

“That’s what I’ve been looking for,” Dean said, reaching out a finger to point directly in the middle of the devil’s trap, “And there’s nothing except an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle.”

“Well, what’s so important about a cemetery or,” Sam began thinking out loud, “What’s Colt trying to protect?”

“Well, unless,” Dean decided to add to that thought, and it wasn’t something that was leaving a good feeling in the pit in your stomach. “What if Colt wasn’t trying to keep the demons out? What if he was trying to keep something in?”

"That’s a comforting thought.” You muttered underneath your breath. But you stared at the older man, a question beginning to gnaw at your mind, wondering what the outcome could be if it were to come true. “Could that do it, Bobby? Could they get inside?”

Everyone looked at him, curious for the answer. “This thing’s so powerful, you’d practically need an a-bomb to destroy it. No way a full-blood demon gets across.”

‘Son of a bitch.“ You muttered underneath your breath. A few pairs of eyes wandered over to you when you realized what was happening. Your newly bandaged hand wrapped themselves into a tight fist, you knew what the competition really was far. "No, you’re right about that, Bobby. But I think I know who could.” Whatever was hiding in that place, you needed someone that was just as special as a demon, but without the effects to the things that kept them out.

Someone like Jake.

\+ + +

Your fingers wrapped themselves around the handle of the loaded gun as you pressed yourself against the cemetary tombstone. The cold air brushed against your cheeks as you glanced up at the full moon above; everything felt about tonight felt eerily familiar to the night you were getting ready to run from the demon, still in the darkness about what was going on with the plans he had in mind. But you knew now. And it wasn’t something that was going to see happen. All of you were here to trap his little henchman that was doing his dirty deeds. Jake was the strongest one that survived the year of the demon blood without going crazy, he did everything he needed to survive, only to be pushed deeper into the situation.

The sounds of the graveyard hinges squeaking echoed through the night air. You cocked your gun back quietly as you could, glancing over at just the right time to see Jake himself wandering through the grounds. You moved out of the way quietly as you could, but keeping your eyes on the prey. He kept walking closer to the crypt that was sealed shut like a vault. There was no way of getting it open without some sort of key, and you had a feeling Jake was hiding it from all of you.

“Howdy, Jake.”

Everyone took that as the cue to step out from their hiding spots, aiming directly at their target. You slowly walked out from your spot with your gun pointed directly at the man, who looked nothing more like a deer in headlights. You didn’t know if it was because he saw the last person he killed sudden rising from the dead, or if it was because he was surrounded. Either way, he wasn’t getting out of this alive, you were going to be sure of that.

“Wait,” Jake managed to mutter out a single word, his gaze fixated on the tallest man. You could hear his voice coming out as soft and full of surprise. “You were dead. I killed you.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, his tone was cold as his lips twitched into a sly smirk for a moment. “Well, next time, finish the job.”

“I did. I cut clean through your spinal cord, man.” Jake admitted. You could feel Sam beginning to believe that information when his eyes slowly wandered away from the man and toward you, before lingering on his brother. He knew something was wrong about the previous situation, and he got what he wanted to hear. “You can’t be alive.”

“Okay, just take it real easy there, son.” Bobby instructed the man, trying to gain control of the situation calm as possible.

But it seemed that Jake wasn’t afraid anymore, “And if I don’t?”

“Wait and see.” You threatened in a cold tone.

Jake’s gaze slowly lingered over to you, seeming surprised to hear anything coming from you. What he said next made your finger slowly curl around the trigger, aiming for the spot between his eyes. “What, you a tough chick all of a sudden? What are you gonna do—kill me?”

“Well, I killed Ava,” You said, almost in a bragging tone. “I could do the same thing to you without running off like a little bitch. And, unlike you, I won’t make the mistake of leaving you for dead.”

But it seemed that you weren’t scaring him one bit. You could feel your face scrunching up in anger when his lips began to slowly stretch out into a smirk, all before a chuckle that was building in his throat was coming out. "What are you smiling at, you little bitch?” Dean asked the man in a venomous tone. “Don’t piss her off. She’s good on her word.”

It seemed that Jake wasn’t afraid of any of you; he turned his head around just enough so he was staring at Ellen. Your face dropped from what he was about to do next. "Hey, lady. Do me a favor. Put that gun to your head.” Jake commanded. You watched as Ellen tried her hardest to fight the instructions, but she couldn’t beat it, her hand slowly turned itself around and the barrel of her gun was pressed to her head. A laugh of amusement escaped from Jake. “See, that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there’s all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn.”

“Let her go.” You hissed at the man.

“You’ll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off.” Jake said, not seeming to be in the mood to listen. Your jaw tightened from what was happening. “Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart.”

You watched as Bobby and Dean had to comply with what the man was saying, lowering their arms before the dull sounds of gun dropping to the grass rang through your ears. You weren’t fighting it like before, you were in total control like Sam. But you knew you had to comply if Ellen was going to make it out of here alive. Out of forced cooperation, you and Sam lowered your hands willingly to the ground, all before letting them slip from your grip. “Okay. Thank you.”

In just of a blink of an eye Jake was leaping forward to the crypt, but he wasn’t getting off that easy. Bobby and Sam took their chance to help out Ellen, managing to snatch the gun away from her before she could harm herself or any of you. You watched as the colt appeared out from Jake’s jacket, he quickly took his chance and shoved it inside the hole. You let out a breath through your nose as you leaned down, grabbing the hunting knife you kept hidden in your boot, for times like this.

Your fingers wrapped themselves around the cold handle as you crept toward the man. He seemed to have been so distracted in patting on himself with the job well done, he didn’t know you were behind him until the edge of the blade went straight through his lower back, it barely grazed the spinal cord, but it was enough pressure to make him stumble to his knees as you yanked out the knife from the wound. You took a moment to watch as he struggled around from the pain he was feeling until you had him on his back. You looked down at him, a small smirk spreading across your lips as you tilted your head to the side. He knew you were about to make him pay for what he did. And you were going to love every moment of it.

You dropped down to his level and stared at him for a moment, you leaned down until you were staring at him. “Does it hurt, Jakey boy?” You asked, almost mocking him. The edge of the knife slowly reached up until it was grazing his neck. “Do you feel the pain of what I’m going to do you? Well, I wish I could do more. The things I could do to you.”

"Please.” Jake whispered. You watched as his mouth was beginning to fill up with blood. You stared at him with curiosity as he pleaded for his life. “Please, don’t hurt me.“

"You know, they don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. But it means I couldn’t do this.” You hissed at the man in a hushed tone. A hand reached up and quickly the knife sunk into his chest, just a little farther away from where his heart was. It wasn’t enough suffering for what he made you do. He needed to be taught a lesson.

“Y/N, what are you doing? Stop!”

You could hear his voice echoing through your ears, but it didn’t seem to register, you were too far. You reached up a hand to take another swing at the man, but someone roughly snatched your wrist, pinning it in the air. Your eyes slowly wandered up to see who had stopped you, frustration beginning to settle in your mind. But you saw Dean was staring at you with pure horror. He wasn’t staring at the woman with the Y/E/C eyes that he had grown familiar toward, it was replaced with one that sent a shiver down his spine. You were staring at him with those inky black eyes, the ones that you had confessed before that haunted your nightmares. After a moment of staring at one another, you blinked, and they were gone. All of your previous behavior seemed to have vanished after that, too.

You stared at the body lying in front of you; he was lifeless and covered in blood, all of this was because of you. A hand slowly reached up to touch your cheek, you felt something sticky resting on it before you wiped it away, you saw that it was Jake’s blood. But knew what you had done was just the beginning of your problems.

You could hear the sound of something like gear twisting and turning around, quick. The both of you got to your feet when you saw the golden metal gears were spinning around at a fast rate. All because of the colt that was lodged inside.Everyone wandered forward to see what was going on, but when you were gathered together, that’s when it stopped. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering what was going to happen next.

The quietness was soon disturbed by the soft sounds of something like hissing wind pierce the night air. And it wasn’t something all of you wanted to be around for. "Oh, no.” Bobby muttered underneath his breath.

“Bobby, what is it?” Ellen asked with worry.

“It’s Hell.” He said. You stared at the doors for a moment. But you knew he was right. It was the literal doors to Hell. And all of you were standing right in front of them, watching as they rattled with more and more building pressure from whatever was about to bust through. Dean managed to snatch the colt away from the lock, all before Bobby shouted on the top of his lungs, “Take cover, now!”

You didn’t need to hear a second warning before you were running as fast as you could, nearly throwing yourself to the ground, behind a tombstone with Dean pressed against your side for protection. You could hear the sound of the metal doors rattling a few more times before the BOOM rang through your ears, making you sink lower in fear of what was about to come out. You slowly looked up at what you saw.

Thick clouds of demon smoke poured straight through the doors and into the night sky. You were watching in horror as the smoke dance through the air, the familiar hissing was overshadowed with the atmosphere changing to the cliched sinister ways you used to watch in horror movies when danger appeared. The clear night sky turned into dark storm clouds with the roaring claps of thunder to shake the ground with distant flashes of lightening brightening up the sky. This was happening, you thought.

All of you had just let Hell break loose on Earth.

\+ + +

You gathered every fiber of courage left in your body to place both hands on the smooth tombstone, slowly rising yourself to see the mess that had unfolded. The atmosphere has changed to heavy storm clouds and a gust of wind that swept through the air from the creatures that were all coming out to play from their long sentence away from the world. You didn’t know how many demons were getting ready to have the time of their life. They must have been itching to retaliate on those to sent them back. It took you a moment to realize you’d undone the work of other hunters and countless others who put those creatures back in the first place. You and the brothers screwed up before. But this time, there was no going back.

“What the hell just happened?!” You’d been trying your hardest to be louder than the noise coming from all around. You jumped back down into a crouch position after Dean nearly forced your body to sit on the grass from the vulnerability you were putting yourself in. Another crack of thunder boomed from above making the ground shake.

“That’s a devil’s gate, a damn door to hell!” Ellen tried her hardest to explain, all through the chaos that was unfolding with each passing moment. And each time all of you were sitting around, more demons were being let loose. Which would make for a bigger headache, if all of you survived this nightmare. “Come on! We got to shut that gate!”

You pushed yourself up into a standing position when you saw everyone heading up to close the metal doors. As you were about to follow behind, you stopped in your tracks to see that Dean was examining the colt, wondering if there was another bullet left. But as you turned your head to focus on something in the distance, you could feel your body grow stiff with unwanted fear. The iron railroad tracks were severed in two, allowing the demons to run free into the night, and granted access another one to step inside see chaos unfold right in front of his eyes. Before you could warn everyone from who was here, the sound of a gun cocking back somehow echoed in your ears.

You turned your head to see that there was one bullet left in the gun, and Dean planned on using it for the one thing he wanted to see dead. His arm straightened out and pointed the barrel of the gun straight at the demon’s forehead. As his finger lingered on the trigger, it seemed the demon wasn’t in the mood to play along. In just a blink of an eye, you watched as the colt was ripped from Dean’s grip and sent flying right to Yellow Eyes.

The demon peered down at the gun, the ends of his lips stretching into a victorious smirk. "A boy shouldn’t be playing with Daddy’s gun.”

“You stupid, son of a—” You were nearly growling your words at the demon. You had enough with the disadvantages that were being played against all of you. But as you took just one step forward, you saw his hand wave around in the air, which had a ripple effect. You could suddenly feel yourself being pushed across the air from a force, like a rag doll he was done playing with.

It was almost like you were flying in the air from how weightless you felt. You didn’t know where you were going to land, but it wasn’t going to be pretty when you caught sight of something cross your vision when you looked down. You came crashing down on a tombstone, banging your head on the marble before falling on the soft grass. You could feel a trickle of something warm and sticky beginning to trail down your forehead from the impact, probably blood. You could hear someone calling out your name in a panicked tone, but you could feel everything around you beginning to grow hazy for a moment. You focused on what you could feel.

The grass tickled your cheek as you could feel your head slowly cradle itself into your shoulder. Underneath your clothes a cold shiver ran through your body from lying on the ground. You almost lost touch with the world for a moment, but you finally managed to pull yourself out of it to see what was going on. You opened your eyes to see a pair of familiar neon yellow shade staring at you, making you jump in fright. But you knew the tricks demons liked to play, you were pinned in place. Cranking your head around just enough, you caught sight of Dean sitting just a few feet from you, bloody from a familiar head wound like yours. Sam was just across the field, thrown against a tree, but alive without a scratch on him.

“Thought we lost you there for a minute.” Yellow Eyes said. A cold glare spread across your face when he returned it with a smirk. “I wanted to talk to you about something, Y/N. It’s about that little pact we made. You see, obviously a smart woman like you knows demons can’t resurrect people unless a deal is made. And I presume you know the old saying—first come, first serve. You and I are gonna have a good laugh from what I’m about to say, aren’t we?”

You narrowed your gaze at the demon, "What are you trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say, Y/N, is that you were a bit  
slow on the draw. A certain someone beat you to the punch. I know. Mopy brothers—it’ll make you go nuts.” Yellow Eyes said, acting casual from what you’d been fearing in the back of your mind. His lips stretched into a toothy grin from your expressions. “Thanks to our hero Dean, Sammy’s back in rotation. And you, my dear, fell right for I promised.”

“You conniving, little bastard.” You hissed at the demon. You wanted nothing more than to reach up and claw out his eyes, but your entire body was pinned in place, forcing you to spit the words that ended with your voice shaking from the pure hatred you felt for what you admitted. “You tricked me!”

“It took me a while to figure out a plan of how to get you to agree for our little arrangement. But then it struck me. Maybe a promise of getting Sammy alive would have would have done the trick. You would do anything for him, right?” He asked with curiosity, his tone rising ever so slightly. You clenched your jaw when you saw Sam from across the way, the both of you made eye contact for a split second. You could have gotten him out of the mess, stopped his death from happening. “But you didn’t. You were selfish. Sam died. And poor Dean had to come to the rescue, like always.”

“I gonna kill you. Put a bullet right between your eyes. Just like I should have from the moment I saw you.” Your eyes were drawn away from the monster in front of you, to Dean. He was nothing short of serious. All the demon did was let out an amused chuckle at how the man was threatening him. “You son of—”

"Didn’t your mother ever teach you about not speaking unless spoken to?” Yellow Eyes questioned the older man, suddenly driving his silent. “You had your chance and failed. But look on the brightside. You did get a pretty good deal just to save Sammy.”

“You call that a good deal?” Dean was allowed to speak again for a moment. But he was still snarky, even if he was just a few feet away from the demon. He didn’t care now.

“It’s a better shake than your dad ever got. And you never wondered why? I’m surprised at you. But I know you’re curious about something.” Yellow Eyes replied, snaking his way closer to the man. You could feel Dean’s eyes wandered over to you for a moment from what the demon said next. “You wondered what’s gonna happen to her. She’s been acting kind of strange lately. And you saw what Y/N did too Jake. That was pretty cold, right? How sure are you that she’s still human after what I did to her. It’s only been a day and she’s losing control this quick. You know it deep down. She’s turning into everything your daddy raised you to hate.”

"What is that, exactly? ‘Cause, you see, I can’t wrap my head around what plans you got up that sleeve of yours.” Dean said, his voice was full of curiosity and sarcasm. “All I see is some cheap head tricks. What’s so special about Y/N? Huh? We’re all just dying to hear.”

“Here’s a lesson for you kids. When people are selfish and don’t appreciate what I give them, I tend to get angry.” Yellow Eyes started to say. “You see, Andrew wasn’t a very good man. He did a lot of bad things. But he was my right-hand man, someone I could count on. Well, I thought I could count on. Turns out he was a lying bastard. Found a way to undo all the hard work I spent to make him like me. Poof! He disappears. I guess you could say he was a real backstabber.”

A chuckle of amusement came from the demon when he caught sight of Sam’s angered face from the comment that slipped out. “But you know the rest of the story. Mommy pisses me off because she’s selfish. Daddy didn’t like being a demon. So, I had to teach them a lesson. And thanks to you two knuckleheads,” He nods his attention to the brothers, “turns out this was a hell of alot easier than I thought.”

You can see the demon coming toward you again, “You ever wonder how demons are made? It’s simply quite easy. All you have to do is twist and poke at the most sensitive parts of a soul until you’ve got it just right. But it’s a grueling process and who has time for that? I certainly didn’t. So, I got a jump start on the process right before you were born into this world. Made an equal part that I could manage through the years. Unfortunately I had to push it off for a while because Sammy and was begging for my attention. I was gonna finish, but to my suprise, you vanished for all those years. But, boy, you’d imagined my surprise when I came to collect what Ella owed me.”

Your lips were stretching into a snarling frown from what you had heard. All the feelings you kept bottled up for years was bubbling to the surface, all until, it was coming out. “You sick bastard. You ruined everything for me. Why? Because your feelings got hurt?” You asked the demon, voice turning into a mocking tone. Your lips stretched into a smirk from what you said. “Or was it because they outsmarted you? She ran fast. You couldn’t control him anymore. They weren’t scared of the big, bad demon. Whatever you have planned, I’ll fight it.”

"You clearly can’t. Just look at what you did to Jake.” You could feel his hands wrap around your chin, forcing you to stare directly at the bloodied body from across the field. You nervously swallowed when you saw that his eyes were wide open, glazed over with fear. When the demon spoke again, his breath tickled your ear from how uncomfortably close he was. He wanted to make sure you were the only one to hear this. “You know you can’t control your demons. Just say yes. It’ll make things so much easier.”

You glanced away from the dead body to stare at the yellow eyes, “Burn in Hell.”

"Been there, done that. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, little brat. You’ve got a front row seat for what I’m about to do.” Yellow Eyes hissed at you. You could feel him step away so he could focus his attention on the oldest Winchester. His hands dipped inside the inside of his jacket, to feel the colt that was buried inside. You glanced back over at the man. He was going to kill Dean right in front of you and Sam, with of all things, the gun that had been such a pain to find. “You of all people should know that what’s dead should stay dead.” The demon pushed himself back up to a standing position, so he was now towering over the both of you. "Anyway, thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn’t have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family.”

The demon pulled out the colt and pushed back on the lock. He positioned his finger on the trigger. You were almost expecting to hear the banging echo inside your ears as you waited for your body to flinch, but something seemed to have changed the plans around again. Your eyes trailed away from the demon when you saw a familiar figure jump into your sight. It took a moment before you could feel yourself gaping in surprise. It was John. And it seemed he was here to take down the monster that ended in the predicament that he was in.

In the midst of the surprise, somehow, John managed to tear apart the demon away from its meat suit for just a moment. The body dropped to the ground, along with the colt, all though you couldn’t see it from where you were lying. You knew what John had done wasn’t anything useful more than a distraction, but it was enough to put the gun back in the hands of who it belonged to. The demon was back into its body after the struggle, not seeming fazed by the little attack, but it was the sound of the colt cocking back made him turn his gaze to Dean.

The man was standing with the gun and the barrel aimed directly at the demon’s chest. Not even taking another moment to let this opportunity pass him by, Dean pressed his finger on the trigger, letting the last bullet lodged itself straight into the demon’s chest. He stared at the younger man, the look on his face was full of pure surprise, all Dean did was stare at the monster with hatred. It took years and countless deaths to see this moment. Every second of having to see the demon suffer from the bullet was satisfying, right until he dropped to the cold ground.

You struggled to get yourself fast enough to crawl to the demon. When you were leaning over his body, you watched as the neon yellow glow in his eyes slowly fade until the the only color that was left was blue. This was it, he was really dead. You could feel a smile beginning to twitch at the ends of your lips, not knowing what could have made this moment any better. As you glanced up, you suddenly thought you had spoken too soon. You blinked a few times to make sure that you weren’t seeing things, but it was true. She was standing right across the field. Ignoring everyone else around, you stumbled to your feet.

All you could think about was getting to her before it was too late. She still looked the same up until the day she passed away. It was like you could suddenly remember all the small details. You were now standing right across from the woman. But you were afraid to touch her, thinking she would disappear like mirage. She reached out a hand to rest on your cheek, making you feel her soft skin you’d missed so much. The both of you stared at one another, tears beginning to prick at your eyes when she smiled again. It was the kind of smile that was filled with happiness, but so much guilt and sadness that she couldn’t hide anymore. You furrowed your eyebrows as you opened your mouth to say something. But she spoke first.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through. But you made me so proud.” Your mother’s first words spoken after being gone for ten years were something strange, but also, something you’d been wanting to hear. You could hear the sounds of a crack of thunder roll in the distance. It wasn’t something that fazed you, but it suddenly made your mother change. She peered over your shoulder to stare at something, the look on her face was almost of pure fear. You were about to take a look for yourself, but she immediately pulled you back. Her hands were wrapped around your shoulders, making you stare at her. “Y/N, sweetheart, I don’t have a lot of time. But you need to promise me. You’ll be safe. And don’t trust him. No matter what he says.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at what she was saying, she wasn’t making sense. “Mom, you’re not making sense.What’s going on?”

“I can’t explain, I swore I wouldn’t.” She mumbled, making you even more confused at what was going on. But you knew when she leaned in and pressed her lips against your forehead, you knew this was the goodbye she’d been wanting to give since sending her time in Hell. You closed your eyes and breathed in her perfume, making you feel safe for a moment. “Just know I never will regret my decisions of how I had you. Every moment down there is worth for the years I spent raising you. I love you, honey.” You wanted this moment to last a little longer. But when you opened your eyes again, she was gone.

\+ + +

You spent so many years to see this moment come true, and it was here. You trailed forward to the dead body again, still in disbelief that the demon was gone. It was almost like it was a dream that would turn into a nightmare. You and the brothers stared at the body for a long minute, waiting to see if he would jump back to life, but he just laid there on the grass. Shoving your hands inside your pockets, you could feel a sense of relief wash over you. It was like you were holding in a breath for all these years. And you could finally exhale that sigh of relief.

"Well, check that off the to-do list.” Dean was the first one to speak, his tone of voice was filled with surprise. But joy, too.

You could see from the look on his face that it was the most amount of happiness you’ve ever seen him in. All of his life was meant for this exact moment, how much training and brutal lifestyle, and he was the one that pulled the trigger. You could feel your lips stretching into a smile, your face was still written with shock. “Yo—You did it, Dean.” You admitted, letting out a soft chuckle from hearing the news out loud. “You really did it.”

“I didn’t do it alone.” He said. You could feel a small smile twitch at the end of your lips.

Your eyes trailed away from the dead body to the grounds of the cemetery. It was almost like you were still expecting to see them around, but you were only faced with empty fields. “Do you think they really…” You brought up a thought, looking at the brothers from what you were about to say next. “Do you think they really climbed out of Hell?”

“The door was open.” Dean said. He opened up his jacket to put the colt into a safe place, but continuing his thought. “And if anyone’s stubborn enough to do it, it would be them.”

Everyone seemed to have enjoyed a quiet chuckle from the thought. Sam seemed to have let out the first smile stretch across his lips in days, but it dropped when he asked the both of you something that was going to haunt you for a while. “Where do you think they are now?”

You wanted to lie and say something that would make all of you feel better. But you could feel your lips twitch into a crooked smile with a glazed over look in your eyes. “I don’t know. But I sure hope it’s something better.” You admitted. “Look, we could drive ourselves crazy for that answer. Let’s just focus on the positive. Okay? We did it, boys.”

“I kind of can’t believe it.” Sam mumbled, staring at the dead body for a moment. “I mean, our whole lives, everything…has been prepping for this this, and now I,” He let out a chuckle from the lack of words he could say. “I kind of don’t know what to say.”

“Well, that’s a first.” You joked, giving the man a playful wink from the comment.

But your attention was drawn to the oldest brother, a smirk was spreading across his lips when the perfect line crossed his mind. “I do.” He said. You watched as the man dropped down so he he was now staring at meatsuit. When he spoke, you could hear the aggressive hatred that had been held in for all of his life finally escape. This was the moment he dreamed of. “That was for our mom. And Y/N’s parents…you son of a bitch.”

\+ + +

Adrenaline from tonight’s adventures was beginning to clearly wear off; your body was aching from your head all the way through to your lower back from the tumble you took. Through the break in the trees came the magnificent sight of the Impala. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into your spot in the backseat, disregarding all the previous memories of before. They didn’t matter when the person was alive. As you followed behind the brothers, you were jut a few feet away from getting yourself into a comfortable position. Suddenly you realized you could close your eyes without having to worry about seeing the demon’s face staring at you. There would be no more nightmares, all of this was behind you. But as you reached out to touch the door handle, you stopped in your tracks when Sam spoke, bringing up a small detail you wanted to forget all about.

“You know, when Jake saw me, it was almost like he saw a ghost.” Sam began speaking, leaning on the backseat door, stopping you from going anywhere. You could feel your gaze slowly linger over to Dean, wondering how this was going to play out. “I mean, hell, you heard him, guys. He said he killed me.”

You licked your lips, “I’m glad he was wrong.”

“I don’t think he was, Y/N.” Sam said. You looked at him to see that his eyes were focused on you. His facial expressions become more serious as his narrowed. “What happened, after I was stabbed?”

“I told you.”

“Not everything.”

“Sam,” The both of you lost focus for a moment when Dean spoke up, trying his hardest not to allow a fight to break out between the two of you. “We just killed the demon. Can we celebrate for a minute?”

Sam stared at his brother the longest time, all before the dreaded question came out of his mouth. “Did I die?” You avoided his gaze, Dean let out a small chuckle to cover how screwed he was. “Did you sell your soul for me, Dean, like Dad did for you?”

“Come on! No!” Dean snapped from the idea.

The youngest Winchester pushed himself off the car. No matter how tall a person could be, he still could make them feel intimidated, at least for you. He stared at you for a moment. You knew he overheard the part about you having a chance to stop all of this, but you didn’t. And then the botched deal that you didn’t spoke a word about, but he knew how bad the consequences could be. You looked at him directly in the eye when he spoke again. “Tell me the truth. Did you try, too?” You couldn’t stand lying anymore. So, you nodded your head. Sam knew who was next. “Dean, tell me the truth. Please.”

Dean mumbled out his little brother’s name, it was the kind of tone that was weak, it was an unconscious sign of admitting the truth. You watched as Sam was taken back from the truth, his emotions turning into sadness from what he asked next. “How long do you get?”

You already knew the answer, but you were dreading to hear it all over again. “One year.” Dean answered after a minute of silence. “I got one year.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Sam mumbled, his voice becoming harder. “How could you do that?”

“Don’t get mad at me. Don’t you do that.” Dean said. His brows furrowed as you could see the sadness creeping back into his eyes, it was almost like he was pleading with his brother. He knew the pain, and he didn’t want Sam feeling, too. “I had to. I had to look out for you. That’s my job.”

“And what do you think my job is?” Sam questioned his older brother. Dean looked at him, confused from what the man was hinting around. “You saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don’t you think I’d do the same for you? You’re my big brother. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you And I don’t care what it takes. I’m gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change.”

You could feel a pitiful smile spread across the ends of your lips from hearing the conversation between the brothers. Before you could lose yourself in thought, Ellen’s voice rang inside your ears. You saw her and Bobby come from the cemetery, with the bad news all of you knew in the back of your minds. “Yellow-eyed demon might be dead, but a lot more got through that gate.”

“How many, you think?” You asked the dreaded question.

“Hundred, maybe two hundred tops.” Sam answered. You flinched at the thought of dragging them back down where they belonged the most. “It’s an army. He unleashed an army.”

“Hope to Hell you kids are ready.” Bobby said. “‘Cause the war has just begun.”

“Well, then,” Dean spoke up again. You turned your gaze away from the oldest man so you could look at him. A toothy grin spread across his lips, nodding his head to the trunk, you and his brother followed behind. He reached a hand inside his jacket pocket to pull out the keys and open the trunk. You watched as he shoved the key inside the lock and popped open the top. He pulled out the colt and examined it for a moment before throwing it inside for safekeeping. When he glanced over at you, he gave a playful wink before saying, “We got work to do.”

\+ + +

Just because all of you saved the day, with at least a dozen more problems soon to be arising from the plan of action, it didn’t mean you were going to take this opportunity to get a decent amount of sleep that all of you deserved. Dean managed to find a motel right off the highway that seemed decent enough to call it a night. You were nothing more than grateful to see the lights still on in the office with an older woman sitting behind the counter, looking bored out of her mind. You offered to pay for the rooms after everything that went down, leaving the brothers to organize a few bags for the stay.

Swinging your legs out of the car, you headed for the motel with some money shoved inside your pockets. You almost forgot about the dried blood and dirt covering your pants and hair, that was, until you caught your reflection in the TV screen when you stepped inside. You winced from how terrible you looked. The woman was sure to give you a few strange looks while checking you out. But when you approached the desk, she glanced up from her novel to see you, a warm smile spread across her lips when you looked like someone who had been to Hell and back. You could feel a weak smile stretch across your face from the thought.

“Um, do you happen to have two rooms by chance? One single and a double for the other.” You asked the woman. “I know it’s late. But anything will do, at this point. I just need to take a warm shower and sleep for about a month.”

“I can see that.” She remarked in a light tone, giving you a coy smile before directing her to the open check-in book to see where the status on rooms were. You watched as her finger trailed down the pages before she tapped at a particular spot that caught her interest. “You’re in luck, honey. I have exactly what you’re looking for. Just give me a moment and I’ll snatch those keys. But be warned, I haven’t gotten the hot water fixed for the single room yet. The Plummer keeps canceling on me, of course.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just take one in the other room. My friends won’t mind.” You said, shrugging off the woman’s warning about the room. As long as you had a bed, you weren’t complaining about anything. You watched for a moment as she turned her back around to snatch the room keys from the hook, her reflection was caught in the mirror that hung on the wall just across the room. You could feel yourself being kept on the woman for a moment as you examined it out of curiosity, or maybe it was you spacing out from the exhaustion you couldn’t hide anymore. But you could feel yourself leaning in when something strange caught your attention.

It might have been your mind playing tricks on you, there had been a few times from that happening, but you could feel your body stiffen in fright when you saw the woman turn her head just enough to catch sight of her eyes, they were inky black. There was hundreds of them out there. What were the chances one of them wanted to pick a fight with someone like you? You didn’t know you were staring to the point where your eyes were hurting, but when you blinked again, they were the same brown shade you remembered her having. You brushed it off as nothing when she turned back around with the keys in one hand and a pen in the other. Barely managing a smile, you forged a signature in the book before snagging the keys, bolting out of the office.

\+ + +

Every doorway and crack between your motel room and the brothers’ next door was covered in lines of salt, wanting to keep an extra precaution for what danger might next, you never could be too safe these days. But the real threat was gone, back to the one place that he couldn’t hurt either one of you anymore. You could felt yourself feel relaxed, the kind of ache in your bones was beginning to settle as a kind of pain you knew felt good, it was a reminder for a job well done. The brothers weren’t annoyed when you bugged to take a shower. Sam seemed preoccupied with some old looking book and Dean announced he was running a few errands, code for he was buying some booze for everyone to celebrate this occasion.

You weren’t going to deny the pleasure of kicking back and having a few drinks with the boys. But what you were craving the most was getting yourself inside the shower to wash away all the blood and dead leaves from your hair. After making sure the water was a perfect temperature, you stripped off your dirty clothes and threw them into a pile by the sink, leaving them for later. You lathered your favorite shampoo into the palm of your hand before you began to start scrubbing your hair, watching the bottom of the tub slowly turn a pale red color for a moment from the blood you were washing away. You accidentally brushed against your head wound and got soap in your palm where the scar was. It was beginning to become a tough battle getting yourself clean with almost one working hand, but you managed to come out of the shower feeling and smelling clean.

As you reached for the towel that was sitting on the counter, you could hear the sounds of hushed voices coming from the next room. You wrapped the towel around your body and headed forward to the door, pressing your ear a few centimeters away to hear the brothers speaking about something. It was almost too casual to seem like a typical conversation at first, but when you heard Dean try and shush his brother, you knew it was something serious. You were almost predicting it was about the younger man’s concern about the deal, but you realized it was about something very different. They were talking about you. And the things the demon had said about your family.

“Calm down, alright?” Dean’s voice was hushed and almost steady as he spoke. “For all we know, he could have been lying about it. The son of bitch had been having a lot of fun with her lately. I think it was just something he said to set her off, you know. See what she would do.”

“I don’t know, Dean. You know what Dad said before. Demons can tell the truth if they know it’ll mess with your head.” Sam remarked. “I’m worried about her, that’s all. I–I just know how scary it is to feel like you’re losing control. What if it’s really happening to her?”

“It’s not.” Dean suddenly snapped at his younger brother. You furrowed your eyebrows at why he was getting so angry. But you remembered what happened just a few hours ago. You lost control when you killed Jake, how your eyes changed in front of them. You had told them each on different occasions your worst fears. And they thought it was finally coming true. “Just stop worrying about it. Nothing’s wrong with her.”

You pressed your ear against the cold wooden door to hear Sam let out a long, drawn out sigh. It was a quiet moment of silence before you heard him speak again, this time, sent the previous guilt you were trying to hide suddenly coming back. From what he admitted out into the air, you knew there was no more running from the truth. “I thought when the demon was finally dead, everything would be okay. But I can’t help but think it’s only gonna get worse. You’re going to Hell in a year. And Y/N. I swear to God, man, there’s something going on.”

You don’t realize you’re shaking with anger until you pull your attention away from the conversation. You immediately snatch your clothes from the counter and slip them on, not caring that your skin was still wet. As you swung open the door, you could see them jump in surprise from you sneaking up on them like that. You noticed the glint of worry in their eyes, wondering if you had heard their entire conversation. Focusing your attention on the taller man, your gaze hardens when you see him beginning to look at you, almost with an apologetic stare when he realized.

"Say it.” You said. Your voice was calm for a moment as you stared at the brothers. They suddenly closed their lips and tightened their jaws. “Just say that everything’s my fault. I’m a freak and I screwed up. I’m the reason why Dean’s going to Hell. I had a way to get all of us out of this mess and I didn’t take it.”

"No one said that, Y/N.” Dean was the first one to speak up. His tone of voice was hard, but you could also hear the tiredness in his voice. “Look, you didn’t know what you were doing. We all made decisions that were reckless. But it’s done and over with. We can’t change the past.”

Your eyes slowly trailed on the dusty book that Sam was previously reading before you got in the shower. When you began to remember the contents of the book, your gaze slowly lingered back to the brothers. An idea began to slowly hatch itself inside your brain. You knew it was going to keep you up all night, but you were anticipating the right moment to think this through. You could almost feel the giddiness filling up your chest from the plan. It was almost fool proof.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

\+ + +

Early mornings always seemed to send a shiver through your body and straight into your bones, but the sight of seeing the sun peeking through the clouds was always breathtaking. You wandered through the woods that was clear of almost anyone except a few creatures that scurried off after hearing your shoes crunch on a few dead leaves. The breeze coming was refreshing enough to keep your eyes from shutting after pulling an all nighter. You knew the brothers passed out exactly three hours ago after consuming enough alcohol to enough of a deep sleep where they couldn’t hear you slip away out of their motel room and steal the keys to the Impala. Dean wouldn’t know you stolen Baby for an hour. Or this.

You could feel the cold metal of the tin bucket press against your skin, making you realize what you’re about to do. But you keep walking through the woods until you saw the branches widen open to reveal a convenient crossroads. There were hundreds of demons wandering these streets, but someone down there still had to hold down business for desperate people to sign their life away. You headed for the center of the crossroads, making sure that you were at the dead center of it before you dropped to your knees and began digging away. When you got at a decent point, you stopped when your dirty fingers brushed against something cold.

Brushing around a bit more of dirt, you stumbled upon the sight of another small metal box buried in the hole. You knew from not even opening it up that it belonged to Dean. He might have sold his soul here, but you were going to make it right. You dropped your box inside the hole and filled it back up. Whatever you could bargain for, you were going to take it without hesitation. You might have screwed up the first time of making a deal with a demon. But you read the book thoroughly enough to know what you were getting yourself into. This wasn’t a mistake. It was a way out for Dean.

“Well. What do we have here?” Your eyes trailed up from the ground to see that these demons worked fast. Someone was just across the road, not far from where you were crouched down. You pushed yourself up to a standing position to see that it was a handsome man dressed in a suit. His eyes were a deep red, but you weren’t scared. “Nice to see a pretty lady summoning me. What can I do for you today, darling?”

"I want to take someone’s place in a previous deal that was made.” You answered. You stood up straight and focused your attention on the demon. His eyes flickered to a normal shade, his eyebrows curiously jumped up, you wondered if this was his first time hearing someone do this. “A man made a deal here the other night to bring back his brother. He’s got one year left. I want to take his place.”

“That’s not how it works, darling.” The demon answered you, rolling his eyes from what you were offering him. “Deals are iron tight. If my boss found out that I was switching around who gets a free ride, a Winchester especially, I think he wouldn’t be very happy. You must understand my hesitation. Besides, what could someone like you offer me?”

“You’d make someone very happy. He spent a lot of time looking for me, but he’s back in Hell. What if I agree to whatever plans he wanted for me?” You asked the demon. It took a moment for him to understand what you were hinting about. His eyes narrowed as a smirk spread across his lips. “Please.”

“Y/N.” The Crossroads Demon mumbles your name, almost acting like it was pure silk on his tongue. He must have realized who you were and the history you had with things like him. “Now, why didn’t you say before? I met your momma once. She’d got to have been eight months pregnant for you. Ella was pretty desperate to make that second deal, would almost agree to anything.” The ends of his lips curled into a smirk as you watched his tongue run over his bottom lip. You know what he’s talking about. She agreed to the yellow-eyed demon’s plans for you without realizing it. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re just desperate as ever to throw your life away like her. But, out of anyone, for a Winchester?”

“Do you want my soul or not?” Your tone was cold as you asked the demon a question. “Or should I come back and trick one of your friends into a devil’s trap to start an exorcism. I hear it’s pretty painful being ripped from a meat suit like that. But probably less painful on what they’re going to do you after I send you back down to Hell for not doing what I asked for.”

“Darling, you don’t have a decent soul to sell for even the dumbest demon.” He remarked, not seeming to have found your previous threats helpful. Your eyebrows furrowed from what he mentioned. His finger slowly pointed at your chest, tapping a few times. “You aren’t exactly human, but you’re not a demon. I say you’re half. That’s what they say, anyway. But if you want to make a deal, sweetheart, I’ll give you one that seems fair enough.”

You could feel him lean over and press his lips just almost near the shell of your ear, whispering out a deal that seemed suitable enough for someone like you. As he stated the small details he warned you about, you were hanging on his every word. They translated to a yes, something you’ve been dying to hear for the past few days. He stood back and straightened his posture out before glancing down at you, wondering what your answer was going to be. You nodded in agreement, not letting a second pass you by to change either his or your mind.

“So, now what?” You asked the demon. “Do I sign on the dotted line or perhaps we share blood?”

“Oh, sweetheart. That’s cute.” He mumbled, taking a step closer until you could feel him peering down at you. You could see his lips stretching into a devilish grin as his hand slowly reached to touch the back of your neck, his fingers threaded lightly through your hair. “This is how we seal a deal.”

In just a moment, he pulled you in closer to make what he was about to do so much easier. You could feel his lips come crashing onto yours, making you close your eyes for a moment to enjoy the realization from what you’ve just done. You’d just sold what soul you had left to a demon. Most would consider this a reckless move, but you were trying to help.

And as that old saying goes; you can’t outrun who you’re meant to be.


End file.
